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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469993">Ghostly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/transking_23/pseuds/transking_23'>transking_23</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>College Setting, Gay, Ice Skating, M/M, Mediums, Original Story - Freeform, technically timetravel?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/transking_23/pseuds/transking_23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ghostly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/19102468">The Spaces Between Us</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justalittlelouislove/pseuds/Justalittlelouislove">Justalittlelouislove</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time passes differently when one is drifting through solitude. The people around him look right through him, right past him. Everything he says falls on deaf ears until he stops saying anything at all. It’s the most alone a person can possibly be. Without any obligations, space and time hold no meaning for him. He moves through buildings, through walls, through decades, sometimes without noticing. Emyr lives in an After of profound emptiness.</p><p>He remembers the Before, though. He remembers Taylor and Lisa and Faith, his older sisters. He remembers Rosetta - or rather, that it is his fault Rosetta is gone. He remembers Mother and being made to wear dresses and girl shoes and not being allowed to be a boy. He remembers what happened when he broke the rules Mother had. He remembers that Father was never around.</p><p>He’s surrounded by people every day. He watches them with little interest and a lack of anything else to do. They laugh and joke. They cry sometimes, tucked away in corners all alone, or right in the middle of the pavement, screaming at another person, tears streaming down their face. They yell and whisper. They kiss and shove. They eat, they drink, they sing. They surround him every day, but every day he is perfectly and completely alone.</p><p>There was probably a time he was able to tell when the days started and ended in this After he’s stuck in. He’s got a fuzzy memory of trying to keep track, trying to force his brain to recognise the world around him in some sensical way. But it’s been too long now, and he’s given up on that. The clothes are different, the sounds, and the sights. Everything is louder and faster. Everything is different in a way that can only mean a long, long time has gone by since his Before ended and his After began.</p><p>Every so often, something in this After piques his interest. Sometimes it’s something as simple as the way a person speaks or walks. Sometimes it’s the cadence of a person’s speech or their accent. Once it was a puppy wiggling its way along the pavement, dragging its owner behind.</p><p>This most recent something is a person has something drawing Emyr in, and he can’t really be sure what it is. It’s a glow, maybe. A warmth that surrounds this person and casts light on to the people that walk next to him along the path at the University.</p><p>For a while, he watches him walk to and from the buildings on campus from afar. For the first time he can remember in this After he’s stuck in, he feels intrigued. He needs to know what the boy carries with him to classes, what he studies. So he begins walking along next to him, silent and invisible, investigating the artwork clutched under the boy’s arm, and itching to get a glimpse at the journal the boy stows in his rucksack.</p><p>He follows him to class, watches him take in the lectures. He notices the shadows under his eyes when he carries a large mug of tea. He wonders about the different styles his hair is some days. He watches him sculpt, and carve, and paint, and draw. He learns his name when he sees him scribble it across the bottom of the page.</p><p>Liam.</p><p>Time, the days of the week, the time of the day, it starts to make sense again. Now that he’s pulled into Liam’s schedule. He tells the days of the week by the clothes Liam wears and the classes he attends, the amount of tea he consumes.</p><p>Mondays are for pottery and wood carving, for dried clay on the edges of Liam’s nails and wood shavings on the same old pair of ratty trousers. On Mondays, the shadows under Liam’s eyes are the darkest, and he’s the quietest. Emyr knows it’s a Monday when Liam sets out across campus in a purposeful march, in the direction of the cafe he frequents. The rain is pounding down and no one else is around. Just Liam and Emyr. And Emyr really doesn’t count as a someone else anymore, does he?</p><p>Liam stops abruptly and Emyr stops too, just a little behind him. Liam’s shoulders slump slightly as he turns around. The colors of the world around him, around them, are just how they usually are, shades of grey, dull. But Liam, Emyr realises, Liam isn’t dull. The tips of his hair are a vibrant blue today. The designs along his arms are deep black, contrasting with his beautiful tan skin and bold. His jumper, nearly soaked through where it’s sticking up out of his coat, is green with red threading and faded in some spots. The rain blurs the trees behind him, but Liam is perfectly in focus.</p><p>As Emyr stares, entranced, a drop of rain slides down Liam’s jaw. Emyr wonders if it’s cold. The rain and his skin. Wonders if he’ll get sick.</p><p>Wonders what it is that has Liam staring.</p><p>“Why are you following me?”</p><p>No one answers, of course, because no one is around. And that troubles Emyr a little, he’s never seen the boy talking to himself before. Maybe a little mumble now and then, but not a full on conversation in the middle of a rainstorm.</p><p>Maybe Emyr hadn’t noticed someone. Turning around he searches the space behind them. It’s empty.</p><p>“Are you going to answer me?” Liam’s body language hasn’t changed, he’s still standing stock still with his arms limp at his sides. But his tone changes a bit, a little bit of annoyance seeping through.</p><p>Emyr becomes increasingly concerned. Then a thought dawns on him. Sometimes people have these - these contraptions, in their ears. They walk around talking to people who aren’t there, swinging their hands around wildly. He’s never seen Liam with one, but maybe he’s just never noticed. He moves to circle around him in search of the contraption, and freezes.</p><p>Liam’s eyes, flashing with irritation, had tracked his movement.</p><p>The words fall from Emyr’s mouth and startle him, he can’t remember the last time he’d heard his own voice (yes he can, it had been in the Before when Taylor had found a new book and had been reading it at bedtime and Faith hadn’t wanted him to listen because it was a girly book and no matter how much Mother tried to make him a girl like Rosetta he just wasn’t but Emyr hadn’t wanted to go without Taylor’s bedtime stories), “You can see me?”</p><p>At that, Liam’s posture changes. His back stiffens and his fists clench. It could be anger, fear maybe. “Why would I be speaking to you if I couldn’t see you?”</p><p>Emyr doesn’t have an answer. This has never happened, whatever this is. Maybe he’d mistaken Liam as human. Maybe he’s another spirit, moving through this After like Emyr.</p><p>But that doesn’t make sense. He would be able to tell, he knows he would. Plus, everyone else can see Liam, so Liam isn’t stuck in this After like Emyr is. So how can Liam see him?</p><p>“I don’t have anything worth taking,” Liam says dryly. He hitches his bag up a little higher on his shoulder and shoves his other hand in his pocket. A raindrop slides from his temple to the cut of his jaw where it clings to his jawline. “So if you’re planning on mugging me, you’ll be completely disenchanted.”</p><p>Emyr casts one more look around. He feels exposed like someones ripped back a curtain and shown him to the world. He shakes his head, “I don’t need anything.”</p><p>Liam’s sigh is irritated, long-suffering. His eyes sweep over Emyr’s body. Emyr knows instinctively that he’s being assessed. “So what, you want to be my sugar daddy or summat, some kink thing you have?”</p><p>Emyr doesn’t understand half the words in that sentence but he’s sure he doesn’t appreciate the sentiment that his tone implies. “No. No, I don’t need any- any sugar. I was just walking. Behind you.”</p><p>“That’s what following is.”</p><p>Again, Emyr has no response. He can tell that Liam is upset by his presence, which is something he’s not ever dealt with in this After before. So he’s overwhelmed, panicked. He takes a step back, giving in to the urge to run and escape the other man’s gaze.</p><p>Liam watches him with narrowed eyes. “Look,” he starts slowly, tossing a look over his shoulder apprehensively, but when he looks back he snaps his jaw shut, and his shoulders drop out of their defensive position.</p><p>Confused.</p><p>Emyr stops his retreat.</p><p>“What the fuck?” This time, Liam’s voice is hushed and definitely not for Emyr. Under his furrowed brow, his eyes pass right over him. He stands there for a couple of moments, staring through the rain at the space where he’d just seen Emyr standing. When Emyr doesn’t become visible again, he shakes his head a little and turns back around, trudging along the path to the cafe.</p><p>Emyr follows after, torn between wanting Liam to see him, and never experiencing that level of uncertainty and vulnerability again.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Emyr’s world is constantly teeming with energy and noise. In the autumn, especially around the shops that dot the edges of the campus, the volume reaches staggering levels. Conversations are shouted across distances or whispered hurredly between bent heads. Bikes with whirling chains and ringing bells wind through the hoards of people walking from place to place. Hand held contraptions buzz and play songs, church bells chime, sirens wail, tires screech. And even though Emyr walks through it all in a slight haze of disconnect, more often than not, he finds it all painfully overwhelming.</p><p>But the ice rink is nice. Emyr’s not sure of many things, but he knows he’s always liked being in the ice rink. He likes the calm of the place, the music and laughter, and most of all how <em> cold </em> it is. He feels drawn to it like he’s drawn to the fine arts department. They feel safe. Places he would’ve enjoyed if they’d existed in the Before, if he’d been able to sneak away long enough from Mother and if his sisters had been able to cover for him convincingly.</p><p>It’s not clear whether or not Liam likes the ice rink the same way Emyr does. But he’s there often, sketching, always with a little furrow between his eyebrows. Emyr’s watching him now, while he sketches in a white notepad. It’s a Wednesday then: Wednesdays are for the white notepad and long stretches of time in the ice rink.</p><p>Across the table from him, Emyr watches the way Liam’s eyes occasionally drift up and survey the room before dropping back to the pad. It could be that he feels Emyr's presence, that happens sometimes. Liam hasn’t seen him again, but Emyr is mostly okay with that.</p><p>A small sound, a book dropping from a table behind Emyr, catches his attention and he turns to find the source. When he turns back, Liam is looking up again, but this time his eyes are held steady on Emyr’s face.</p><p>“Did I fall asleep?” Liam’s tone is confused but not irritated.</p><p>Both the nature of the question and the realisation that he’s being addressed for the second time in as many days, send Emyr’s brain whirling. He doesn’t understand how this keeps happening.</p><p>“When?” Emyr tries to use a hushed voice, it comes out more like a croak. It’s been a long while since he’s had to control the volume of his voice. Or use his voice at all really. In the Before, he’d had to practice sounding like a girl so he could pretend to be Rosetta for Mother, but he hasn’t had to speak in this After at all. Luckily, a quick glance around the room tells him no one else seems to be able to hear him.</p><p>“Just then,” Liam says. Even at a whisper his voice is melodic, like he’s singing a song with every word he speaks. At first, Emyr thought maybe it was a speech pattern that people had developed that he’d not noticed. A present time people thing. Now he’s pretty sure it’s just a Liam thing. “You weren’t there a second ago. Did I drift off or something?”</p><p>Emyr supposes it’s human nature to try and explain away something as incomprehensible as he. It doesn’t dawn on him that it might be better to lie.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>The bench creaks a little as Liam shifts his weight. His expression doesn’t change much, but he gives a tiny nod like that's what he’d been expecting to hear. “I didn’t think so.”</p><p>Emyr glances around the room again, uncomfortable under Liam’s slow blinking gaze. But his eyes are very pretty, Liam’s, the colour of the sky maybe, and they keep drawing Emyr back.</p><p>He doesn’t know if something like the colour of someone’s eyes has ever interested him before. “How can you see me?”</p><p>Liam shrugs one shoulder, a tiny motion. “Don’t know. Thinking you might be a hallucination.”</p><p>He seems extremely calm for someone who thinks they’re losing their mind. Maybe he’s been through it before. Maybe he’s already lost his mind. Emyr has no idea. But he knows one thing for certain; he does not exist only in Liam’s mind.</p><p>“I’m not,” Emyr says, doing better with keeping his voice quiet this time, just in case, “Other people sense me sometimes. It’s just only you that can see me.”</p><p>“That sounds like something a hallucination would say.”</p><p>Emyr huffs. It’s a little rude to refer to someone as a figment of your imagination, isn’t it? Liam’s only seen him twice and suddenly he’s telling him what he is or isn’t?</p><p>Impossibly rude.</p><p>A twinkling song starts to play loudly from Liam’s pocket, and he reaches down to pull it out while a few people eating near them look over in annoyance. He fumbles with it for a moment and then slides it back in his pocket. When he looks back up, his eyes search the space where he’d been looking at Emyr.</p><p>Which is perfectly fine with Emyr. He’s not sure he likes these little chats anyway.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Something has changed, shifted in Emyr’s existence, and he’s got a feeling Liam is somehow to blame. When he’d told him other people sense his presence, he’d not been <em> lying </em> exactly, but it’s not a frequent thing. And when people <em> did </em> sense him, before Liam, it was a brief thing, a quick glance up and then a shake of their head, a pause in conversation that was often overlooked and quickly forgotten.</p><p>Now the interactions keep happening, more frequently and more obviously. It’s not like with Liam, no one stops their day to accuse him of being a figment of their imagination, but there’s still a difference.</p><p>Emyr is sat in an almost empty classroom, save for the Professor, trying to avoid another such interaction. Being around fewer people will probably help. He’s not sure of the day, because he’s been trying his hardest to keep his distance from Liam, but he does know this Professor. She’s Emyr’s favorite if he had to decide, mostly because she teaches Advanced Drawing and looks like his older sister Lisa if Lisa had grown up and wasn’t stuck in this After form that Emyr was. Her body is bent with age; she moves slowly and carefully, the joints on her hands are swollen with arthritis, but when she sketches, it’s like magic.</p><p>Too drawn to the art to remember he’s supposed to be keeping his distance, Emyr moves to the front of the room and stands near the large desk. The Professor that reminds him of Lisa is bent over it, her pencil moves in small strokes over her pad, filling the room with a gentle scratching sound. As Emyr watches, a woman starts to emerge from the gray lines. Her face is round and gentle-shaped, and Emyr gets the urge to brush his knuckles across her cheek. Her lips are thin-full and curved into a small smile, that looks like it’s holding no less than a million secrets and invites mischief with wide open doors. A warmth starts to spread through Emyr’s chest and butterflies float around in his stomach. This was the sort of woman Lisa would have loved with all her heart.</p><p>Emyr moves closer, standing right at the Professor’s elbow now, enthralled. She doesn’t sense Emyr there or doesn’t give any sign of it anyway, moving on to shape the woman’s nose with more gentle strokes, drawing a little mole next to it on the right side. The imperfection makes her even more beautiful.</p><p>It’s her eyes though, that makes her the most gorgeous woman Emyr has ever seen. They’re gentle and kind, but twinkle with the same mischief in her smile. The pencil makes them gray, but somehow Emyr knows they’re brown-orange, like amber. Somehow he knows that when the sun hits them just right, they sparkle. He wants her eyes on him forever.</p><p>The Professor gives her soft flowing hair while Emyr stares, and then she seems to be finished. At the bottom of the page, she writes Amor mei. Vita mei. In omnibus rebus.</p><p>In Emyr’s head, soul, brain, wherever, he hears, <em> My love. My life. My everything. </em></p><p>His chest aches with the need to wrap her up in his arms and never let go. Tears, hot and surprising, spring up in his eyes and he tries to blink them away before remembering that no one can see them anyway.</p><p>The Professor that reminds him of Lisa leans back in the chair and runs a finger along the edge of the paper, sighing, “My Jenny, I miss you more every day.”</p><p>Emyr’s knees wobble under the weight of longing. “She’s so beautiful,” he whispers, still entranced.</p><p>The old woman that looks like Lisa might have nods with a small smile and then freezes. Abruptly, she rips her hand away from the paper and looks around the room quickly, brow furrowed. Emyr stands completely still, terrified that the Professor will look at him again, and this time her eyes will stop. He feels like an intruder, a voyeur; he feels confused and caught out.</p><p>Slowly, the old woman that looks like Lisa might have rises from his chair, shaking her head. </p><p>“Lisa, it seems like you’re finally losing, it old woman. He is gone, just like she is. Your brother has been dead for years,” she murmurs to herself.</p><p>The Professor that reminds him of Lisa even has his older sister’s name.</p><p>Emyr watches her shuffle out of the room, cane banging loudly against the floor. He waits for the door to close with a click and then he releases the tension in his body, sagging under the weight of his fear.</p><p>Emyr drags a hand over his face and looks back at the drawing. The woman he sees looking back isn’t beautiful at all, not breathtaking anyway like she had been just a moment ago. He rakes his eyes over the paper, confused. He doesn’t feel any of the things he felt just a moment ago. Her eyes are set just a little bit too close together - something he’d not noticed - and don’t sparkle or shine. He tries to see the perfection in her smile, tries to remember why he’d felt so desperate to have her cheek under his fingertips. He knows he isn’t attracted to women, but he’d felt like he might’ve been attracted to this woman while the Professor that reminds him of Lisa had been drawing her.</p><p>But no matter how long he stares, he doesn’t feel anything but confused.</p><p>Two weeks go by without another uncomfortable incident. The Professor that reminded him of Lisa hearing him, and whatever had happened with the drawing, was an unsettling experience. Liam acknowledging him twice now is jarring and frightening, something that Emyr feels sure he should avoid letting happen again.</p><p>He starts watching him from afar and never lets himself stand directly in Liam’s line of sight. But he had felt less alone, less terribly sad in this After, when Liam’s eyes were on him instead of through him. It’s an addictive feeling, one that overpowers the fear. So, after two weeks of serious internal debate, Emyr gives in and lets himself get close again.</p><p>He follows Liam to the north side of campus, where they sit by the edge of the lake. The leaves on the trees, bullied by early November’s crisp wind, fall around Liam in brilliant oranges and reds. He’s got the collar of his leather jacket flipped up in self-defense, and Emyr wishes for the 1000th time that he could run his fingers over the material and see if it feels as soft as it looks.</p><p>Liam’s got his sketchbook spread across his lap, coloured pencils, and a cup of tea that smelled like cinnamon at the ready, on the ground near his right knee. Emyr watches him for a second, from a safe distance, but as Liam starts sketching, curiosity gets the best of him and he inches over.</p><p>The drawing is different from anything he’s seen Liam do before. Usually, he sketches out portraits, caricatures Emyr’s heard him say. Other times he does cartoons, things like ghosts in sheets and strange men in capes. But this drawing is neither of these things. It’s a mass of deep red slashes and swirling dark lines. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the design, all the colors are dark but still clash.</p><p>As he watches, Liam adds more, moving a black coloured pencil quickly across the sketch pad in a way that adds depth to the whole thing. Emyr’s bemused interest starts to shift, and he starts to feel frantic, panicked. Startled by the intensity and sudden onslaught of his feelings, Emyr sits down abruptly. Liam adds dark purple slashes across the page, once, twice, three times, and Emyr feels like there's a monster clawing at his chest. The air around them presses in from all sides, caging them in. Liam makes one last long slash of red across the paper and then takes a deep breath, staring at it. Emyr takes a shuddering breath too, and tries to push back against the pressure on his chest. And then with a yank, Liam rips the paper off the sketch pad and balls it up roughly.</p><p>The feeling just... Stops. It all disappears; like Emyr had been buried under a boulder and someone came along and shoved it off. He takes another deep breath and stares at the paper balled up in Liam’s palm. It’s all in there, he knows somehow, all the feelings of pressure and being trapped, they’re all wrapped up in that ball. With a start, he notices Liam’s chest moving rapidly as well, like breathing is just as hard for him.</p><p>Liam tosses it to the side and picks up a green pencil. He starts to sketch a vine, adding round leaves of different sizes. Soon it covers the page and flowers sprout from it in purples and pinks. The awful feelings don’t come back. All Emyr feels is calm and maybe a little tired. Liam keeps sketching, and Emyr keeps watching.</p><p>When Liam is done, he gathers his things and heads back towards the other side of campus. Emyr does what he always does now, he follows.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next morning, Emyr waits for Liam by his cafe. He appears right on time, with his eyes struggling to stay open, a bit of dry paint on his cheek, and wearing a soft looking jumper. Emyr watches him through the glass as he orders his tea. When he comes out clutching his little white cup, and starts for the largest building on campus, Emyr goes with him.</p><p>Liam brings them to his history classroom, one of his few classes not centred around art, and easily Emyr’s least favourite. The classroom and Professor are alike: stale and stuffy. His monotone voice echoes through the room while Emyr strolls up and down the aisles, looking over people shoulders at their doodles and notes.</p><p>Like usual, Liam is sat in the back of the hall, close enough that he can see the lecture but far enough that no one speaks to him. Emyr sits in the chair next to him and promptly decides to ignore the Professor. For a while, he just watches the rise and fall of Liam’s chest, entranced and lulled.</p><p>About halfway through the lecture, Liam stops writing abruptly. Emyr furrows his brow and searches his face, but sees no change in expression. He turns and looks to the Professor, but finds him still droning on about the same subject. The paper of Liam’s notebook rustles quietly as he flips to a fresh page and pauses, pen poised to write.</p><p>Emyr watches his face for a second, but still has no clue what's happening, so he drops his eyes to the paper and waits.</p><p>Suddenly, Liam starts writing.</p><p>
  <em> I can see you. </em>
</p><p>Emyr jolts, snapping his eyes back to Liam’s face, but Liam just keeps staring at the paper.</p><p>It’s happening again. It’s not good; there’s no way that it’s good. Emyr stands up, prepared to flee from the first person to properly see him in this After, but Liam starts writing again.</p><p>
  <em> I’m sorry if I upset you. </em>
</p><p>Emyr hesitates, torn between fear and curiosity. Liam’s eyes slide over to him for half a second, trying to gauge his reaction. Emyr sits back down.</p><p>“It’s alright,” he whispers, scanning the room to see if anyone turns or startles. No one does of course. Because no one else even knows he exists.</p><p>
  <em> I’m still not sure you aren’t actually a hallucination, but that’s no excuse to be rude. </em>
</p><p>“I’m not a hallucination,” Emyr says, eyes tracing the tattoos lining the inside of Liam’s forearm, “But I’ve got no idea how to prove that to you.”</p><p>
  <em> Why do you keep leaving? </em>
</p><p>Emyr stares at the writing, sparkly pink-purple ink on white paper. What response should he give to that? He’s not always leaving, not as often as Liam thinks he is anyway. Would knowing how often Emyr is around freak Liam out? Probably.</p><p>And even if he wanted to tell him why he does leave, he’s not sure of the answer himself.</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>There’s a sudden uptick of movement and sound through the room. Emyr glances around and finds the lecture has ended; all of the students are packing up and leaving the room.</p><p>Liam scribbles out another question hastily.</p><p>
  <em> What’s your name? </em>
</p><p>Emyr looks up, ready to answer him to his face, but realises it’s too late. Liam is looking at the space Emyr’s occupying with that familiar searching gaze.</p><p>“Well, maybe next time,” Liam says with a tiny sigh, expression crestfallen.</p><p><em> Yeah </em> , Emyr thinks watching Liam gather his things, <em> maybe next time </em>.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Although he seems to have more control over where he goes now, there are still times when Emyr finds himself somewhere he’d not meant to be. It’s like he’s magnetised, some force pulls him to Liam, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing. Emyr was in the ice rink, watching a boy with dark blue eyes and messy brown hair slide and tumble and struggle to stay upright in skates on the ice while their friends laughed and called encouragement and a boy with bright amber eyes and wavy dyed-blue hair looked on fondly, and then suddenly he wasn’t.</p><p>He’s in Liam’s flat now, in the narrow bathroom to be specific. He’s not spent much time in here, as it’s a bathroom, and he might be stuck in this After but he’s not rude. He recognises the room from the handful of times he’s watched Liam stumble in with a groan in the mornings, brushing his teeth and staring himself down in the mirror.</p><p>Steam fills the tiny room, fogging up the mirror and Emyr’s brain. He knows he should go, that what he’s doing is an invasion of privacy, but he feels like his feet are strapped to the floor, like he shouldn’t be, can’t be anywhere else in the world. Liam starts to sing, a throaty song about being in love with no one but a city on the countryside. Emyr closes his eyes and lets it wrap around him like a warm blanket, soothing and soft. His panic slips away quietly, replaced by complete relaxation and calm. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that they’re not his own emotions that he’s wading through, not completely anyway.</p><p>The water shuts off, but Liam keeps singing and Emyr keeps feeling. It’s all so devastatingly distracting and overwhelming. With a click, the shower door swings open and Liam steps out onto the bath mat. He grabs his towel from the bar on the wall and brings it up to his head, rubbing at his hair. The steam swirls between them and clouds the glass of the shower behind him, making him look like he’s floating in the clouds.</p><p>Emyr’s brain ceases to process anything save for Liam’s damp skin. Emyr’s eyes follow a bead of water as it runs down Liam’s smooth jawline and falls to his chest, sliding over tattoos and traveling down further to the flat plane of his stomach. He’s got a tattoo there too, a little bit of song lyric in all red-purple.</p><p>Liam is still singing and the bathroom is still so stuffy and too hot, and Emyr can’t keep his eyes from shifting lower. Lower to the patch of soft hair at just a little above where Liam’s thighs meet. Lower to the base of Liam’s dick. He can’t help it, and once he's looked, he can't look away. It starts to fill, twitching ever so slightly as Emyr stares, and he takes a step forward without a single conscious decision to do so.</p><p>“It’s rude to stare.”</p><p>Emyr jerks, thoroughly startled and backs up three steps. He looks to Liam’s face with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I- I’m sorry- sorry, I’m sorry. I’m very sorry.”</p><p>“Multiple apologies accepted.” Liam smirks and wraps the towel around his waist, while Emyr stares determinedly at the tile just behind him. “You can make it up to me.”</p><p>Emyr meets Liam’s eyes again, “How?”</p><p>“Tell me your name,” Liam answers immediately. “We should probably know each other’s names if you’re going to be staring at my dick.”</p><p>“I don’t stare at it,” Emyr says loudly, a little panicked. “It was- I didn’t even mean to be in here and, it’s- you’re naked!”</p><p>Liam nods his head calmly. “Your name?”</p><p>Emyr huffs. Liam smiles at the sound, a gentle kind of thing that makes his eyes twinkle prettily. “Emyr. My name is Emyr.”</p><p>“Emyr,” Liam repeats softly like he’s weighing the word against his tongue, feeling it out, tasting it. “Are you really here, my Emyr?”</p><p>Liam takes a small step towards him and Emyr’s breath hitches. Panic, thick and unrelenting surges through his entire body. He wants to get away. Closing his eyes tightly he desperately wishes to be back in the ice rink, safely hidden away from beautiful boys with tan skin that can see him in this After.</p><p>When he opens them again, he’s standing in the middle of the rink, the ice under his feet but not cold like it had been in the Before. There are some students huddled together at a table, whispering and laughing lowly. Another student is trying to convince their friend that they won’t let them fall if they get on the ice. A boy-boy couple are skating around, the smaller one with pretty grey eyes and short black hair grinning at the bigger one with green eyes and slightly longer curly blonde hair mischievously. But all Emyr really hears, on a loop playing over and over, is Liam’s soft voice saying “my Emyr”.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Liam’s flat is small but bright. He keeps the windows bare, and when there is sunlight to be had, it pours in and caresses every surface. The furniture is faded and mismatched but looks comfortable and soft.</p><p>There’s art everywhere. Acrylic paintings, charcoal sketches, and coloured drawings litter the walls and the floor, or can be found tucked into the corners with instruments and sculptures. Sometimes Emyr watches Liam sketch for hours on end, so wrapped up in his art he doesn’t notice the warm light from the sun drifting across the room, and casting a shadow around him like a sundial, until it sets and the moon comes up.</p><p>Other times, he watches Liam just being. He moves through the flat doing mundane things that Emyr can’t help but be captivated by. Emyr knows all about Liam’s flat, each room, and its purpose. The toaster only works if you press the handle five times, Emyr knows, and the oven timer doesn’t work at all. The bedroom gets too warm at night, and the hallway creaks in seven separate places.</p><p>He doesn’t live alone, although it had taken a bit for Emyr to figure out which of the three men that were always around lived in the flat, and which only visited. Two of them, Percy (the blue-eyed messy-haired brunette boy from the ice rink) and Kyle (the bright amber-eyed and wavy dyed-blue-haired boy from the ice rink), come and go, but the third, Tyler (the bigger one in that boy-boy couple with green eyes and curly blonde hair), lives in the room down the hall from Liam’s.</p><p>Tyler is loud and cheerful most of the time, and sassy and snappy some of the time. Emyr finds him interesting; he gives Emyr the impression that there’s way more to him than meets the eye.</p><p>Sometimes, Tyler plucks away at his mini-piano while Liam paints. Other times, Tyler sings and Liam sketches to the melody. Often times, like right now, they get out a whole lot of baking things and make a lot of sweets together that they’ll give to the little orphanage near the university.</p><p>He’d been watching them from across the room, listening to one of their soft and wandering conversations flow from one topic to the next with seemingly no direction, and realised he felt just as safe and calm in their flat as he does at the ice rink. And he thought for the first time, that he might like to join them. That he might like to bake with them and give sweets to little children who don’t have real families and make those children smile and laugh and hug them and kiss their foreheads. The next second, he could smell the cookies they were baking since it was little Johnny’s birthday and the child loved chocolate chip cookies. He’d definitely never been able to smell it before.</p><p>Now, surrounded by the thick smell that he’s come to associate with calm, he sits curled up on the window sill, invisible, and content to listen to their half baked brains churn out half-formed thoughts for hours.</p><p>“Mate, I think I’m seeing things,” Liam says, interrupting a ten-minute long spell of silence.</p><p>Tyler frowns at the ceiling and shakes his head. “Nah, this is legit. Got the recipe from Perce, he doesn’t fuck around.”</p><p>The floor creaks quietly under Liam as he walks to the fridge to get the milk for the cookie batter. “No, not right now. All the time.”</p><p>Emyr stares at Tyler’s face, watching for any signs of panic or worry - the reaction one can expect from someone who’s just been told their best mate is losing their mind.</p><p>Apparently, Tyler and Liam are so close because they are like-minded on the subject of encroaching insanity. Tyler hums quietly and purses his lips in contemplation for a moment. “The same thing all the time or is it like a trippy Alice in Wonderland kind of situation?”</p><p>Liam’s eyelashes sweep over his cheeks, as he pulls from the joint between his fingers before responding, “It’s a bloke actually, always the same one.”</p><p>Suddenly, Emyr doesn’t like this so much anymore. He wants to be back in his ice rink, cloaked in quiet and surrounded by the familiarness of cold and ice and soft music. But Liam is talking about him and, for some reason, he feels like he just can’t leave.</p><p>“What’s he doing when you see him?” Tyler stretches his arm out and flails around blindly until Liam grasps his wrist and hands him the milk gently. “Thanks, mate. Are you sure no one else can see him? Maybe you’ve just got similar schedules.”</p><p>Liam drums his fingers against the marble counter in a familiar beat, something he’d been singing that morning in the shower. “He just walks behind me, or near me. Sometimes I’ll be taking notes and look up and he’s there. Saw him once in the ice rink and no one else could hear him. Plus, he wears a suit, expensive looking thing, people would notice him.”</p><p>“Might be a hallucination,” Tyler suggests without an ounce of concern.</p><p>“Might be.”</p><p>Rolling over onto his belly, Tyler props his head up in his palm. “Have you tried speaking to him?”</p><p>Liam’s eyes have slipped closed, but he’s gnawing at his bottom lip like he’s thinking over his answer. “We’ve spoken. The first time I thought he was a mugger, yelled at him in the rain.”</p><p>As a sign, raindrops start to splatter against the window pane. Emyr turns his attention outward and watches students rush around on the pavement below, holding books and bags over their heads in an attempt to stay dry.</p><p>Tyler’s voice drags his attention back. “Maybe he’s not a hallucination, this place is old as shit, innit? Maybe he’s a ghost.”</p><p>“Maybe. He disappears without any warning, I’m not sure if it’s on purpose or not. One second he’s there and the next I’m staring into empty space.”</p><p>“Sounds like a ghost to me,” Tyler says, measuring out flour, “But that also sounds like a hallucination, so I can’t really be sure.”</p><p>Liam makes a little noncommittal humming noise. They lapse into silence again and Emyr turns back to the window. As the scent of cookies fills the room, he watches raindrops drag down the pane. He wonders idly what it would be like to stand next to Liam, to feel his fingers wrapped around his wrist as they’d been around Tyler’s.</p><p>“I can talk to Luke. He knows about this kind of stuff,” Tyler suggests, he’s still focused on baking. “I think he knows a little about everything, really. What does it feel like, when you see him? What kind of feeling do you get from him? Has he told you his name?”</p><p>Emyr keeps his eyes on the rain and waits for Liam’s response. When it doesn’t come, he turns towards him and is startled to find Liam looking back.</p><p>“Scared,” Liam says, voice low and eyes locked on Emyr’s. “His name is Emyr, and he feels scared and sad and hurt and alone.”</p><p>For the first time in a long time, Emyr wishes he could make himself invisible again.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Early the next morning, Emyr is sat at the kitchen table when Tyler comes shuffling in scratching at his head and scowling. With chin in hand, Emyr watches him start the coffee machine. It whirrs to life immediately, pressing out the silence in the flat. Coffee is one of the things Emyr loves the smell of the most. Here in the flat, it’s a simple smell, deep and rich. At the coffee shop Liam frequents, it’s complex and ever changing. Some days the cup Liam carries with him smells of cinnamon, other days it smells of ginger, or jasmine. Either way, complex or simple, Emyr feels deeply comforted by it.</p><p>Picking out a mug, Tyler sighs softly. He’s loud most of the time, usually laughing uproariously at a joke, or singing a song at the top of his voice while he plays his piano. Tyler expresses joy loudly, spreading it around the space completely. If he’s quiet, Emyr has noticed, it’s usually due to anger. Or, like now, it’s just too early for him.</p><p>Like almost every other day, he opens the window above the sink and the sounds of early campus life come filtering in. The sunlight streaming in glitters through the dust in the air, making the whole kitchen hazy. When the coffee machine stops, Tyler sits at the table with a cup and pulls out his phone.</p><p>Emyr watches the steam waft from the cup and lets his mind wander to the conversation Tyler and Liam had the night before. Hearing Liam say his name had given Emyr a feeling he can’t yet identify. He’d felt exposed and caught out, yes, but a part of him had felt the same as he does when he’s in the ice rink - safe.</p><p>“Well, I’d guess you’re Emyr then,” Tyler says calmly.</p><p>Emyr’s eyes snap up. Tyler is still relaxed in his chair, with his palms wrapped his coffee cup. He regards Emyr with calm curiosity and takes a sip of coffee.</p><p>“You can see me,” Emyr says quietly, unnecessarily.</p><p>“Obviously.” Tyler takes another sip and Emyr squirms a little under his stare. At least Liam had thought Emyr was a real person following him around. Tyler just watched him appear out of thin air and he’s not the least bit bothered. Emyr finds himself firmly on his back foot.</p><p>“Not everyone can,” Emyr explains slowly. “I don’t know how you can. I don’t know how Liam can.”</p><p>Tyler tilts his head side to side, contemplating. “That is a question isn’t it? But there’s tons of things I don’t understand, doesn’t mean they aren’t happening just the same.”</p><p>“You don’t think I’m a hallucination?”</p><p>Tyler tsks and takes a gulp a coffee, it thuds loudly when he puts it back down. “A hallucination that Liam and I share? Not likely. It’s not like we’ve been doing shrooms together. I’m not even high.”</p><p>Lord only knows what shrooms are or how one does them. “I don’t think I’m a hallucination either.”</p><p>“That’s exactly what a hallucination would say,” Tyler quips with a smirk.</p><p>Emyr sighs. “That’s what Liam said.”</p><p>Tyler rolls his eyes at that, waving the statement away with a hand between them. “Liam gets everything interesting he says from me.”</p><p>“He’s very interesting,” Emyr says softly, glancing down at his hands for a moment. When he looks back up, Tyler is smirking.</p><p>“Is he?” Tyler leans forward and narrows his eyes playfully. “What's so interesting about him?”</p><p>Emyr shifts in his chair. Tyler’s body language is confusing, probably because Emyr’s not used to correlating body language with speech. Coupled with the thoughts of Liam, Emyr starts feeling what he’s fairly certain is embarrassment.</p><p>He shrugs and tells Tyler the truth, “Everything.”</p><p>Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up and he leans back in his chair. “Everything? Do you think he’s attractive?”</p><p>This conversation is growing more confusing by the minute. Emyr frowns. “I- Do you?”</p><p>“We’re not talking about me.”</p><p>Well if Emyr had a choice in the matter they wouldn’t be talking about him either. He huffs and shrugs again. “He’s pretty. His eyes and his- his smile. Yes, yes I think he’s pretty.”</p><p>Tyler takes another sip of coffee and Emyr watches him apprehensively. He’s sure now that what he’s feeling is embarrassment, he’s just not sure why exactly. It’s a bit of a process, he’s discovering, becoming self-aware. He shouldn’t be embarrassed for being attracted to another boy, he knew he was homosexual in the Before, even though Mother didn’t like that he was.</p><p>“Do you find other people... Pretty?” Tyler smirks a little but schools his face quickly to something more serious.</p><p>Trying to assess the motive behind the question, Emyr watches him for a second, mulling it over. “I- well. You have very pretty eyes.”</p><p>Tyler blinks and then cackles, a loud, surprising sound that has Emyr smiling along without him even noticing. “You’re very sweet Emyr, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I guess,” Emyr says slowly, “I don’t really know who I am. Mother wanted me to be Rosetta but I’m not, and I don’t really know who I am if I’m not trying to be Rosetta because Mother wants me to be her and I’m not.”</p><p>Tyler’s smile drops instantly upon hearing what Emyr’s mother did to him. His eyes sweep over Emyr’s face searchingly and then land on Emyr’s eyes, where they hold. “We’re going to find that out. Okay? I’m going to help you.”</p><p>Emyr stares back at him, and even as he feels himself drift away, even as he watches Tyler’s surprised eyes search the room for him, he knows that it’s true.</p><p>Tyler is going to help him.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Three weeks later Emyr is back in the in-between state, as Liam calls it, sat on the sofa watching Liam clean paint brushes when Percy marches through the front door looking thoroughly put out.</p><p>“I need my criminal justice book,” he announces, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m going to be late for class.”</p><p>Liam’s jaw ticks and he glances in Emyr’s direction, even though he can’t see him. Emyr is starting to think that maybe he can feel him, sense him maybe. “Okay?”</p><p>Percy shuffles his feet, impatient. “Can you go and get it?”</p><p>“I’m an art history major,” Liam says slowly, furrowing his brow at Percy.</p><p>“I’m aware.”</p><p>Emyr looks between them, confused by the conversation and slightly worried by Percy’s obviously increasing agitation. At least Liam looks to be just as confused and Emyr’s not just out of the loop because he’s out of their space and time.</p><p>“Why would I have your criminal justice book?” Liam tries again, tossing his hands up. “I have literally no use for it.”</p><p>“Why the fuck do you do anything?” Percy snaps. “You have it, you probably just forgot or some shit. I just saw the sketch you made of the girl in the first chapter, it was laying on the floor in your room.”</p><p>Liam shakes his head. “Perce, I-”</p><p>Percy groans and stomps away from them, towards Liam’s room, flinging the door open. Liam and Emyr wait on the sofa, listening to the shuffling of papers and the occasional curse Percy sends flying.</p><p>He’s back, not two minutes later, with a sheet of sketch paper gripped in his hand. “See?”</p><p>Liam stares at the paper, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide. Emyr stares at Liam, mind whirling around like a spinning top. It’s the sketch Liam made of him.</p><p>Percy stomps. “Hello! Can I have my book?”</p><p>Liam swallows. He looks from the sketch to Percy and then back again. “Who-” Liam clears his throat when his voice comes out more like a croak, “Who is that Percy?”</p><p>Percy glances at the paper confused. “Rosetta Versani? You didn’t read any of the chapter before you drew her?”</p><p>Emyr gets up from the sofa, panicked. He doesn’t know what this is, he doesn’t know what’s happening, or why his sister had been in a book that Percy needs for some class. Emyr isn’t even sure of who he is himself, why is Percy so certain? Emyr knows that he’s not Rosetta, no matter how much Mother tried to make him into her. Emyr is not Rosetta, no matter how much he looked like his sister.</p><p>Liam’s shoulders slump and he brings his feet up onto the sofa, making himself as tiny as possible. “He’s real,” he says quietly, more to himself than to Percy.</p><p>Concern for Liam overtakes panic, and Emyr slowly sits back down and watches him closely. He wants to reach out and comfort him, rub a hand across his back maybe. Do something, anything to change the confused tension that’s radiating off of him.</p><p>Percy waves his hands, oblivious to the multiple meltdowns going on in the room, “Yeah, she’s real. Well, like she was. Her great grandfather or whoever built the school. Rosetta disappeared about ten years after her brother Emyr died. That’s why she’s in the book. Just vanished one day.”</p><p>No, Rosetta died in the Before, not Emyr. He knows that, he remembers Mother being angry because it should’ve been him that died not her precious little Rosetta even though Emyr had tried to protect his sister.</p><p>“I’m not crazy, okay?” Liam starts, scooting to the edge of the sofa cushion. “I have something to tell you, but I’m not crazy.”</p><p>Percy rolls his eyes. “That’s seriously debatable.”</p><p>Liam licks his lips and takes a deep breath. Emyr’s eyes bounce between them.</p><p>“I’ve been seeing Emyr- er, Rosetta. Not like… I’m not dating her. She's- she’s haunting me.”</p><p>Emyr realises it’s happened a second before Percy registers it. He feels… aware of himself somehow, in a way that he hadn’t just a second before, and then he knows he’s not in the in-between state, he’s visible, and by the look of utter terror on Percy’s face, he’s not only visible to Liam.</p><p>“What the fuck!” Percy shouts, scrambling backward and tripping on his own feet. He lands on the floor with a thud and scooches back towards the wall, mouth hanging open in shock.</p><p>Liam whips his head around and spots Emyr on the couch next to him. He looks pleasantly surprised for half a second, and then realisation dawns on his face, “Oh, fuck,” he whispers.</p><p>“What the actual fuck is going on!” Percy shrieks. He’s trembling, shaking like a leaf in the corner and pointing at Emyr. “Where the fuck did he come from?”</p><p>Liam holds up his hands. “Perce, relax.”</p><p>Percy’s eyes bulge out of his head so dramatically, Emyr leans back in fright. “RELAX? A man just materialised on your sofa and I’m supposed to relax? Wait- wait. Can you see him? Am I losing my mind? Liam, can you see him?”</p><p>“Of course I can see him.” Frustrated, Liam drags a hand over his face roughly. “I’m the one who told you about him, not two seconds ago.”</p><p>Percy flails his arms around over his head, “Oh excuse me for being a little forgetful at the moment. I’ve heard ghosts appearing sometimes do that to a person. What else have you got in here Liam? Hmm? What’s next a goblin?”</p><p>Emyr snorts, surprising himself, and Percy’s eyes snap to his face. “I can hear him too.”</p><p>Liam props his elbows on his knees and drops is face into his hands. “Yeah. Emyr, this is Percy. Percy, this is Emyr. He’s already met Tyler.”</p><p>“Hello Percy,” Emyr greets, trying to comfort him but failing miserably if Percy’s expression is anything to go by.</p><p>Percy shakes his head, staring at Emyr with his mouth hanging open. Liam sits up and looks between them, sighing. “Well, don’t be rude Percy.”</p><p>“It’s nice to meet you,” Percy says immediately, like an innate reaction to being chastised over manners. “You’ve really freaked me out, if I’m honest.”</p><p>“If it helps,” Emyr says softly, twisting his fingers in his lap, “You’re freaking me out too.”</p><p>Liam’s head snaps around, his eyes roam over Emyr’s posture and face. “Are you okay?”</p><p>The first time Emyr had followed Liam into the cafe, he’d nearly run back out. There were so many smells, far too many to categorise. And sounds - talking, laughing, keyboards clicking, machines whirring. It had been so overwhelming it felt like drowning. It’s a bit how Emyr feels now. Explaining that seems like an impossible task.</p><p>Percy gets up off the floor slowly and takes a few steps closer. “Anxious? Caged in, maybe?” he suggests quietly. Emyr glances at Liam and then nods. Percy shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I would never purposely do that to you. Are you alright?”</p><p>Emyr blinks at the kindness in Percy’s tone. “I’m fine,” Emyr assures them, rolling his eyes in a way. “I’m the ghost here. And I’m not Rosetta, no matter how much Mother tried to make me into her.”</p><p>“Are you a ghost though?” Percy tilts his head, studying him, not mentioning the comment about what Mother made Emyr do. Liam’s silent but watchful, body language tense.</p><p>“I- I don’t know actually,” Emyr admits. None of this is helping with the anxious feeling. “Liam used to think I’m a hallucination, but Tyler doesn’t think so.”</p><p>“I didn’t know ghosts got anxious,” Percy says slowly. “Do ghosts have anxiety?”</p><p>Emyr shrugs. It’s not like he's an authority on the subject either. “I don’t know, really.”</p><p>Percy nods along for a bit, just kind of watching Emyr in an awkward kind of way that Emyr’s not sure he’s fond of. Liam clears his throat after the third glance Emyr throws his way, and Percy snaps out of it, standing up and brushing off his trousers.</p><p>“Well, I’d better get to class before I miss the whole thing,” he says with a small smile. He puts his hand out to Emyr for a shake but quickly shoves it in his pocket when Emyr blinks at it rapidly. “Right. Ghost. Right. Alright, I’ll see you guys around - I…, right? Will I see you around?”</p><p>Liam sighs and scrubs his hand over his face. “Unfortunately for me, Emyr is the only one of us who can escape you.”</p><p>“You love me and you’re a terrible actor. Keep him in line, Roseh- Emyr.” Percy gives him a soft smile after correcting himself, and then winks at Liam, before heading back out the door with one last little wave.</p><p>With a quiet laugh, Liam picks up the paint brushes and resumes cleaning them. Emyr stares at the muddy water swirling in the glass. After a bit, the room seems to open up again, and Emyr feels less stuck, less trapped.</p><p>“Did I scare you?” Liam says out of the blue, like he instinctively knows Emyr is good to talk now. “The other day in the bathroom. Did I make you anxious and that’s why you left?”</p><p>Emyr takes a deep breath and looks at the floor. “I got overwhelmed. It’s- I’m not used to talking to people. I’m not used to any of this. It wasn’t your fault. People never really notice me, not even when I was in the Before.”</p><p>“It <em> was </em> my fault,” Liam insists sternly, glancing up at him and away. “I didn’t mean to, but it’s still my fault. I’ll be less pushy from now on. Is that what it was, me moving into your space?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Emyr says, turning his head to watch Liam’s profile, “You don’t always make me anxious though. I like being around you. I think that’s why- why I can stay longer in the After now.”</p><p>Liam hums and pulls the brush out of the glass, wiping it on a towel that’s across his thigh. Emyr tracks the movement and then looks back up quickly, cheeks burning. He’s stunned for a second by the realisation that he’s feeling his own embarrassment. He’s been feeling his own anxiousness. He’d been so wrapped up in how uncomfortable it felt, he didn’t think of how different it all was.</p><p>“I like being around you too,” Liam says, smiling at him, oblivious to his existential crisis. “You’re not so bad for a hallucination.”</p><p>“Yes, well,” Emyr says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back, “That’s still really rude to say, I hope you realise.”</p><p>Liam smiles, the biggest one Emyr’s seen yet, with his tongue caught between his teeth and his nose scrunched up. “Yeah, I realise. I think I like winding you up, ghost boy.”</p><p>Emyr laughs, entirely against his will, and waves his hand around in Liam’s general direction. “Just keep cleaning your brushes.”</p><p>When Emyr is pulled away again, it’s not until he’s sat in the quiet company of Liam for another hour. And while he used to feel relieved about slipping back into the shadows and a little scared about being seen, he finds that those emotions are starting to fade.</p><p>While he walks around in the ice rink that night, fingertips floating over the tops of tables, he imagines what it would be like to run his fingers over Liam’s skin.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Kyle’s reaction to Emyr suddenly materialising directly in front of him is wholly different to Percy’s, and far too calm, and really solidifies Emyr’s theory that Liam has surrounded himself with a group of individuals with a really lax policy on mental stability.</p><p>“So, you’re Emyr then.” Kyle tilts his head to the side, and props his hands on his hips. “Pretty fit for a dead guy.”</p><p>Emyr blinks. “I’m- Thank you?”</p><p>Kyle shrugs. “Do you watch telly?”</p><p>Emyr glances at the television on the wall and back, this isn’t exactly the line of questioning one would expect in this situation. “When it’s on, yeah.”</p><p>“Can you not turn it on?” Kyle waves his hand around, gesturing to Emyr’s entire being. “Can you move things, touch things?”</p><p>Emyr shakes his head, and then considers. “I don’t know, I haven’t tried. I don’t think I can turn it on, no.”</p><p>Kyle lets out a breath and shakes his head sullenly. “A sad existence, that is. Well, I’m going to watch some cartoons, come on then.”</p><p>Without another word, Kyle ambles out of the kitchen, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet and plops himself on the couch. Emyr, stunned and dazed, follows after him. He perches on the couch next to him and tries to pay attention to the things happening on the screen instead of analyzing their interaction.</p><p>Out of the blue, Kyle asks, “Do you remember dying?”</p><p>Mouth hanging open, Emyr whips his head around. “Excuse me?!”</p><p>Kyle rolls his eyes. “I’m sat in me best mate’s flat with a ghost and you’re expecting me not to ask how he got to be a ghost? Come on.”</p><p>Well. That is true. “Tyler doesn’t think I’m dead.”</p><p>Kyle hums, considering for a moment. “Well, I’d listen to Tyler if I were you. He knows about this kind of stuff. He’s got a boyfriend that’s a witch doctor or summat like that.”</p><p>Emyr nods and turns back to the tv. Exhausted by the entire interaction really, but not uncomfortable which is… different.</p><p>Kyle lets silence fall over the room for all of seven seconds. “So. What are your thoughts on white chocolate?”</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>One of Emyr’s favorite things to do is watch Liam in the kitchen without Tyler around helping. After a particularly dull history class that morning, Liam had told him he was in the mood for some muffins, speaking out the side of his mouth the entire time, so as to avoid looking like a lunatic carrying on a conversation all by his lonesome.</p><p>“Haven’t you added that bit already?” Emyr whispers, craning his neck to look inside the bowl.</p><p>Liam shakes his head, adding in the sugar. “No. That was the flour, this is sugar, mate.”</p><p>“It all looks the same to me,” Emyr admits, and then adds, “How did you learn how to bake anyway?”</p><p>Liam swipes a hand across his brow, leaving a trail of flour there, stark white against his tan skin. “My mum taught me. I like being in the kitchen, it reminds me of her.”</p><p>A twinge of sadness pricks at Emyr, but he bats it away. His mother wasn’t like Liam’s, but there's no point in feeling sad about it. He had Taylor and Lisa and Faith, and Rosetta when she’d been alive as well. “What else-”</p><p>“Why are you whispering?” Liam snaps, turning to him with a furrowed brow. “You’re weirding me out.”</p><p>Emyr pulls up short. “Well- Kyle is napping on the couch.”</p><p>Liam sucks his teeth and turns back to the bowl, stirring the dough. “Don’t baby him. He doesn’t even live here.”</p><p>“Neither do I,” Emyr points out with a little laugh.</p><p>Liam turns abruptly and points the spoon at him. “<em> So </em> not the same.”</p><p>“Offensive,” Kyle yells from the couch. The springs creak under him as he hauls himself up. He marches into the kitchen. “Liam, that was bloody offensive. Don’t you know anything about ghost etiquette? Rule number one: Don’t remind dead guy he’s dead.”</p><p>“Yesterday you asked me how likely it was that an an ex lover offed me,” Emyr says, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>“People change, Emyr.” Kyle reaches into the bowl, and pulls his hand back with a yelp when Liam smacks him with the wooden spoon. “You’re a bloody barbarian, did you know?”</p><p>“Yeah, I know,” Liam says easily. “Keep your fingers out of my batter.”</p><p>With a huff, Kyle hops up on the counter facing Emyr. “And what do you have planned for the rest of your day? More British Bake Off with the Grump here?”</p><p>Emyr has no idea what British Bake Off is, but whatever. “I don’t know, I don’t really make plans.”</p><p>Kyle nods, pursing his lips. “Cause of the dead thing?”</p><p>Liam lets out a long suffering sigh.</p><p>Emyr rolls his eyes almost fondly. “Yes Kyle, because of the dead thing.”</p><p>“I thought rule number one was don’t mention the dead thing,” Liam says dryly, taking out a baking tray from the cupboard.</p><p>“I’m above rules, Liam,” Kyle says, puffing out his chest. “This man bends his knee to no one.”</p><p>“Yeah? You might want to let Percy know that, next time he gets his knickers in a twist when you’re late for game night,” Liam says.</p><p>“Percy is an angel walking this Earth, not a mere man,” Kyle says, without a hint of embarrassment. “That’s not the same.”</p><p>“Can we get back on task here,” Emyr groans.</p><p>“You want to come watch my drama class?” Kyle asks happily, “We’re running lines today.”</p><p>Emyr furrows his brow. “I thought you only had classes in the mornings.”</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” Kyle agrees. “I run this one. I’m a TA to help pay for Uni, seeing as I’m not a millionaire.”</p><p>Liam snorts, looking up from the muffin tray, where he’s got half a dozen pits filled. “Yeah, Emyr. Not all of us are sugar daddies.”</p><p>Emyr frowns. “I still don’t know what that means.”</p><p>With a thump, Kyle jumps down from the cabinet and starts walking towards the door. “Come on then, I’ll explain on the way.”</p><p>Emyr looks up at Liam, who gives him a nod and a small smile, and then follows after Kyle. At the door, he pauses and looks back into the kitchen.</p><p>“Have fun, Liam,” he calls, procrastinating just a bit.</p><p>“I’ll try.” Liam looks up from the baking tray with a dramatic pout. “But I’ll miss you too much.”</p><p>Kyle yanks Emyr down the hall before he can go back into the kitchen, and never leave Liam’s side again.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Drama, as it turns out, is fascinating. Faith had liked acting, but Mother said girls weren’t allowed to be onstage because it wasn’t proper. Emyr hadn’t been allowed on stages either, because Mother had still been forcing him to pretend to be Rosetta even though Rosetta was gone.</p><p>Emyr’s watching the stage from a dark corner in the back of the theatre. He and Kyle hadn’t been worried about anyone seeing him, really, but it’s not like Kyle can just speak to thin air in the middle of the room, so they’d picked a safe spot. There are about a dozen people on stage now, although that number changes depending on the scene. They’re doing a production of Pride and Prejudice, and Emyr’s enthralled. Taylor had loved the book, she’d read it to him and Faith and Lisa and Rosetta when it was time for bed. Before Rosetta was gone and Mother was making Emyr pretend to be her, and then Taylor had read it to just him, Lisa, and Faith at bedtime. She’d read the story to Emyr whenever he needed to calm down because Taylor was always there for them the way Mother never truly was. Looking back at life in the Before, Taylor was more like their mother than Mother ever was.</p><p>Kyle hops down from the stage and makes his way to the back with a white paper bag swinging in his right hand. Plopping himself down in the seat next to Emyr, he pulls something out of the bag and starts unwrapping it. The paper rustles noisily.</p><p>“So what do you think?” Kyle takes a large bite out of what Emyr realises is a burger, and watches him while he chews.</p><p>“I think there was a sign on the door that said no food and drink,” Emyr points out dryly, cocking a brow. “Where did you even get that?”</p><p>Kyle takes another bite, staring Emyr in the eye. “One of the students brings me a little something every class in an attempt to butter me up or get in my pants, haven’t figured out yet,” he says around a full mouth. “They’re awesome, but I have Percy.”</p><p>Emyr rolls his eyes, pulls his feet up and rests his head on his knees. One of the actors starts his monologue and he turns to watch. “I think it’s amazing.”</p><p>“Yeah right,” Kyle says sarcastically. Emyr turns his head to look at him, and Kyle blinks at his expression. “Wait. Really? You think it’s good?”</p><p>Emyr nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I think it’s really cool. And they all seem so… so real. Like they’re not even acting. It’s just like the way Taylor used to read the book for us when Mother told us we had to go to bed.”</p><p>Kyle’s smile goes megawatt bright, as his eyes crinkle at the sides. “They’ve been working really hard. It’s only the first time on stage for some of them.”</p><p>“Wow,” Emyr says, turning back to face the stage. He shakes his head. “I would have never known. They’re much better than those people on the programmes Tyler watches.”</p><p>“Oh, that's reality TV,” Kyle explains. “They’re acting, but they’re supposed to pretend they aren’t. So it ends up being a bit of a mess, doesn’t it?”</p><p>The scene ends, the actors walk off, and stagehands quickly make their way across the stage, changing out the scenery. Emyr scoots to the edge of his seat, excited to see what's going to happen next.</p><p>“Have you never seen a play, then?” Kyle asks.</p><p>Emyr purses his lips and thinks about it. “Not in this room. Mother didn’t like when we were here, she was always trying to make me into Rosetta, and Rosetta had hated the theatre. Besides, it could very well have been an axe murder during one of the times I snuck out to be here anyway.”</p><p>“Mate,” Kyle says, tossing his head back with a groan. Emyr looks around the theatre nervously, but no one seemed to have heard him. “Everyone knows if it had been an axe murder, you’d be all bloody. Plus, Tyler says you’re not dead.”</p><p>Emyr shrugs, letting it go. “Do you act?”</p><p>Kyle takes the last bite of his burger and nods. “Yup. Gonna be a drama teacher, me. It’s the best thing in the world. You can be anyone, anything you can possibly imagine. That’s real freedom.”</p><p>“Huh,” Emyr says, “I think I’d like to try it. I mean I don’t know how I could, because people can’t actually see me. But, I think I would really like to.”</p><p>Kyle stands up, balling up his burger wrapper. “We’ll see what we can do, Casper.”</p><p>Kyle tosses the wrapper at Emyr and, without thinking, he reaches out to grab it. But instead of it floating right through his hand, and landing on the floor as it should, it lands in his palm. Emyr blinks.</p><p>“Has that ever happened before,” Kyle whispers. His eyes are wide and surprised. “Have you ever done that?”</p><p>Emyr slowly closes his fingers around the paper and stares at his fist. The paper is slick with grease and soft. And it’s in Emyr’s hand.</p><p>Stunned, he looks up to Kyle, shaking his head. “No. Never.”</p><p>After a second of stunned silence, Kyle gives him a small smile. “Maybe it’s the magic of the theatre.”</p><p>Emyr watches him stride away and hop back on stage, and thinks it’s got to be something. And it sure does seem a whole lot like magic.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The discovery that he can touch things is a little overwhelming for Emyr, and although he makes it through the class with Kyle, he’s not surprised to find himself walking to the ice rink soon after. He spends the night there, grazing his palms over the smooth wood tables, walking over the ice and sliding around, pushing buttons on the machines.</p><p>When he goes back to Liam’s flat the next day, he catches him just as he’s getting back from class, and follows him in.</p><p>“How was the class with Kyle yesterday?” Liam asks while pulling out his sketchpad and situating himself on the bed.</p><p>Emyr sits on the window sill next to the bed. For the first time, he actually feels the coolness of the glass against his back.</p><p>“I liked it. Well, mostly,” Emyr murmurs, watching Liam shade in a drawing of Ninja Turtle. Which are not at all like actual turtles, and are also probably not real, no matter what Kyle says. “He asked the students if they knew any good ghost stories.”</p><p>Liam snorts and looks over at him, cocking his head to the side. “Not the most subtle, our Pratter.”</p><p>Emyr nods and glances away, needing a second to work up a bit of courage. If Liam notices anything off, he doesn’t say, instead, he goes back to shading and lets silence fall over them again. He’s almost done by the time Emyr interrupts again.</p><p>“We kind of found out I can touch things,” Emyr says. “I mean now, now I can move things, touch them. I couldn’t before in this After.”</p><p>Liam’s hand freezes mid-sketch, and he jerks his head up. “Kind of?”</p><p>Emyr glances down at his hands “Well not kind of,” he clarifies. He looks up with a sheepish smile and raps his knuckles on the wall. “I can. I caught a piece of rubbish Kyle threw at me. I would have had to knock if you weren’t at the door earlier.”</p><p>Slowly, Liam puts down the pencil and stands up. He walks over to Emyr. “And you’ve never been able to touch anything before?”</p><p>Emyr shakes his head, watching Liam approach. He feels a flutter in his stomach, a bit like what he’d felt in the bathroom that time. But, this is different, less severe.</p><p>Liam stops right in front of him, so close that Emyr can see the specks of green in his eyes. Slowly, he presents Emyr with his hand, palm up.</p><p>Emyr’s eyes bounce between Liam’s face and his hand. The flutter is more of a jump now. Emyr swallows and reaches out his hand, but stops with a just a breath of space between them.</p><p>“Go on,” Liam whispers. He’s standing completely still, but as Emyr watches, the pulse in his neck jumps. “It’s alright.”</p><p>Like snakes and their charmer, the butterflies in Emyr’s stomach settle at the soft tone of Liam’s voice. With another deep breath, he drags his index finger over Liam’s palm lightly.</p><p>The world doesn’t end, and Liam doesn’t rip his hand away. In fact, he takes one step closer, so they’re nearly pressed together and looks up at Emyr with a smile. “See. Everything’s fine.”</p><p>Emyr licks his lips and nods. “Can I- Can I do it again?”</p><p>“Of course,” Liam says gently.</p><p>Emyr searches his face for any sign of discomfort but finds nothing but a soft smile and gentle sky-coloured eyes. A little emboldened, Emyr touches him again, dragging his finger along his palm and tracing along the lines there.</p><p>He’s got calluses at the ends of his fingers from wood-carving, they’re rough to the touch. He’s warm, so warm.</p><p>“Did you go to the ice rink?” Liam asks. “After this happened yesterday?”</p><p>Staring at their hands, Emyr snorts. “This has never happened.”</p><p>Liam laughs quietly. “I mean after you figured out you could do this. Did you get anxious?”</p><p>Emyr goes from using one finger to three, gently sweeping them from Liam's wrist to his fingertips. He doesn’t look up to answer, “Yes. I stayed all night.”</p><p>“What did you do?”</p><p>Emyr smiles, remembering. “I slid on the ice mostly. I feel so safe there, so comfortable, right? But I’ve always just watched everyone skating. Feeling the ice on my feet was amazing, it was like I was playing in the snow again even though Mother hadn’t let me after she had me start pretending to be Rosetta.”</p><p>“You’ve been wanting to touch the ice.” Liam says, not talking about Emyr mentioning his mother making him pretend to be his sister, and it’s not a question but Emyr nods anyway.</p><p>Liam takes a step back and Emyr drops his hand immediately, scared he’s done something wrong. Liam reaches down, grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pauses, watching Emyr’s face intently. A wave of calm, relaxed energy rolls off him and laps up against Emyr like soft seafoam kissing the shore. Emyr’s fear subsides and his body releases tension he’d not realised he was holding. Liam must sense the change, probably is able to see the whole thing play out on Emyr’s face, and pulls the sweatshirt off in one fluid motion.</p><p>“I’ve seen the way you look at my tattoos when you think I’m not watching,” Liam says softly with a smile.</p><p>Emyr blinks. It’s not as if he’d been trying to be secretive about it. It’s just, well, it’s not right to stare, is it? “I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”</p><p>“It’s just ink and imagination.” Stepping closer again, Liam holds out his arm. “Do you want to feel them?”</p><p>Emyr drags his eyes over the tattoos on Liam’s arms, on his chest, his stomach. “All of them?”</p><p>“If you’d like,” Liam says, voice a bit deeper than it was before. “Whatever you want.”</p><p>The air in the room goes thick and charged. Heat snakes its way up over Emyr’s skin, starting at his toes and rapidly rushing up to his chest, leaving a pink flush as evidence. Emyr doesn’t dare look up at Liam’s face, terrified of what he’ll see there.</p><p>“Come on then,” Liam tells Emyr playfully. “Don’t be scared.”</p><p>He is scared though, he’s terrified. And he wants to do this more than anything in the world. Liam takes another step closer and Emyr wants to run. He leans back to give himself some space and the glass, cold and damp, reminds him he’s got nowhere to go.</p><p>“Come on then,” Liam says softly, scrunching his nose. Emyr blinks, and Liam just leans in. His breath ghosts across Emyr’s cheek. He’s so close. He laughs a little, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Come on, come on Emyr. Come on then-”</p><p>Emyr steels himself and grabs his arm, halting his advance and silencing him all in one.</p><p>“See,” Liam says, smirking like he’s won some kind of prize, “That wasn’t so hard.”</p><p>Heart pounding and breath coming in quick pants, Emyr stares at his fingers wrapped around Liam’s forearm. Slowly, he applies gentle pressure and watches Liam’s skin shift. It feels different than his palms, with the smooth expanse of his skin.</p><p>The tattoos there don’t feel like anything at all, but Emyr releases Liam’s forearm to trace them with his fingers anyway. Goosebumps crop up on Liam’s skin and Emyr looks at his face quickly, nervous.</p><p>Liam just smiles and lifts his arm a little higher, planting his palm on the wall next to Emyr’s head and nudging his head in a way that Emyr takes to mean go ahead.</p><p>Fascinated and dazed, Emyr runs his fingers up Liam’s arm to his shoulder, and over the sharp jut of his collar bone, where he’s got delicate curves and lines inked into his skin. He can feel the soft thump, thump, thump of Liam’s heart under his fingers, and he presses his palm against the beat, sucking in a sharp breath.</p><p>Liam’s pulse jumps along the line of his throat and draws Emyr’s eye up. He lets his fingers follow, and drags them over the little scruff on Liam’s jawline. It’s different from the hair on his arms, more coarse, and prickly against his fingertips.</p><p>“Maybe I should have shaved,” Liam says with a soft laugh. “I’m not properly prepared for this, am I?”</p><p>What steps could possibly prepare either of them, anyone, for a situation as amazing as this?</p><p>Emyr shakes his head, staring at the way Liam’s lips move when he speaks. “I like the way it feels.”</p><p>“I aim to please.”</p><p>Emyr can’t take his eyes off of Liam’s mouth. His lips are pink and soft looking, probably just a regular pair of lips like anyone else’s. But he’s got to know for sure, got to take his thumb and drag it across Liam’s bottom lip.</p><p>Liam lets his lip be pulled down just ever so, and then he opens his mouth and pulls Emyr’s thumb in, resting his teeth against it gently. His mouth is warm and wet, and Emyr feels like he might pass out.</p><p>A second later he realises that what he’s feeling is all the blood rushing away from his brain and towards his dick. He sits there, with his thumb in Liam’s mouth, his dick hard in his pants, and starts to slowly panic.</p><p>It must show on his face, because Liam pulls his head back slightly, letting Emyr’s thumb go. Emyr’s arm drops limply to his side, and Liam watches it fall. His eyes catch on Emyr’s crotch, on Emyr’s probably very obvious erection, and hold for a second.</p><p>Emyr tries to brace himself for Liam’s reaction, but that's nearly impossible as he’s not a single clue how anyone would ever react to their ghost friend getting an erection from touching their mouth.</p><p>Liam’s reaction is… not a reaction at all really. His expression remains calm and unaffected, and he doesn’t move away or closer. He just blinks slowly and smiles gentlyat Emyr like nothing happened.</p><p>“Want to see what I’m working on for next week’s show?”</p><p>Emyr has the strongest urge to lean around Liam and check the time to see if he’s lost a chunk of the conversation.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Liam nudges his head towards the bed. “Do you want to see what I’ve been drawing. I’ve got that gallery show next week, remember?”</p><p>Emyr does remember. But he also remembers that they are in the middle of an extremely terrifying situation and perhaps they should focus on that?</p><p>“I’d really like your opinion on it,” Liam adds, just moving on along with the conversation. “You’ve got good ideas.”</p><p>With that, he turns away and walks back to the bed. He plops down and starts rifling through the pages of his drawing pad. Emyr watches him, mouth slightly agape and dick slightly less hard.</p><p>When he gets to the page he’d been looking for, Liam looks up expectantly and Emyr goes to him, mostly on autopilot. He sits next to him on the familiar pale yellow comforter and tries to bring his heart rate down. For the next twenty minutes, Liam shows him his drawings, and Emyr’s panic, and erection, both subside.</p><p>Emyr desperately hopes they’re both gone for good.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>For the next two days, some of Emyr’s time is spent discovering - or rediscovering he supposes, the textures of the world around him. But, most of his time is spent reliving those few extraordinary moments in Liam’s room. While processing every new sensation, he finds himself using Liam as his frame of reference.</p><p>The grass under Liam’s favorite tree, faded green with spots of brown now, is prickly and stiff. It’s nothing like the scruff on Liam’s jawline that looks rough, but moves under Emyr’s fingertips so easily, warming them with friction. In the pottery room, the clay Liam uses is powdery and dry at first. But, then he adds water and drops it to the wheel, instructing Emyr to sit in front of him and mold it while it spins, their hands tangled together. Then it’s wet and smooth, and warming with each turn of the wheel. Until all Emyr can think about is the press of Liam’s chest to his back and the memory of the pad of his finger trapped in Liam’s mouth.</p><p>They end up having to scrap that pottery project.</p><p>Emyr’s all but given up on experiencing anything that will leave him more affected than Liam, until Tyler sweeps into the flat with a bang of the front door, and he shouts for everyone to meet him in the living room.</p><p>Despite the fact that only two people live in the flat, all five of the boys are there. Emyr and Liam come into the living room together from the balcony, and Percy and Kyle come out of the bathroom and meet them. Percy’s hair is soaking wet and looks a bit uneven on one side, like maybe Kyle had been cutting it. No one comments on it, it’s just better that way.</p><p>Tyler is not alone in the living room, Emyr realises as soon as he spots him. Standing next to him is the smaller boy he’d been with in the ice rink, the boy with pretty grey eyes and short black hair who’s wearing a dark blue shirt, littered with sparkly starbursts and a pair of sweatpants that look a bit too long. His hair holds little star clips that sparkle and shine as well. He smiles at Emyr warmly, who startles a little at the fact that he can see him.</p><p>“This is Luke,” Tyler says, wrapping a hand around his waist and pulling him to his side. “My boyfriend and all around knower of all things.”</p><p>The other boys have obviously met Luke before. They each take turns giving him a hug and kissing cheeks, welcoming him. It takes a couple of minutes for them to all get settled and sit down, during which time Emyr simply stares.</p><p>Tyler procures a chair for him opposite the couch and Luke sits down, becoming the head of their small circle. All eyes turn to him.</p><p>“So,” Luke says, folding his hands neatly in his lap and pining Emyr with a warm but mischievous look, “It’s nice to finally meet you, and not just watch you creeping around the ice rink.”</p><p>The boys chucke a little. Liam’s arm is warm and reassuring pressed up against Emyr’s side. It helps immensely. “Yeah, uh, you too.”</p><p>“Well, Emyr,” Luke says briskly, shaking his head a little and making the single earring he’s wearing jangle, “You are not a spirit.”</p><p>“I’m not?” Emyr asks, voice cracking.</p><p>He’s not like Rosetta? Is that why he’s never been able to find her in this After he’s stuck in?</p><p>“No,” Luke says firmly. “You’re lost. But you’re not dead.”</p><p>Emyr looks around the room at the other boys. Percy and Kyle are sat practically on top of each other to his left, watching Luke with wide, interested eyes. Tyler, sat to Luke’s right, is watching him with a soft expression that Emyr’s never seen him use before. Liam, to Emyr’s right, is watching him carefully.</p><p>None of them seem to doubt what he’s saying, which Emyr supposes is reassuring.</p><p>“So, what does that mean?” Emyr asks finally. “How am I lost?”</p><p>“Do you know anything about your past?” Luke asks, voice soft and reassuring.</p><p>Emyr doesn’t want to talk about Mother making him pretend to be Rosetta or Taylor crying or Lisa being taken or Faith being told she can’t do the one thing she’s always wanted to or Father being gone or how it’s his fault Rosetta is gone, but then Percy cuts across him, sitting up abruptly and nearly sending Kyle sailing off the couch. “Oh! I’ve got research!”</p><p>He extracts himself from his seating arrangement, taking a second to kiss Kyle on the cheek, and then rushes to the front door. He plops back down on the couch, just a second later, with his backpack and starts pulling out folders.</p><p>“Just give me one minute to find it,” Percy mumbles, furrowing his brow. “Ah! Here it is.”</p><p>From a purple folder, Percy pulls out a packet of typed paper and waves it around. “I’ve been working on this in between classes,” he explains. He smiles at Emyr sheepishly. “I hope that’s okay.”</p><p>Emyr feels a rush of adoration for him so strong it's hard not to pull him into a hug. “Of course, thanks Percy.”</p><p>Percy waves him away, and Kyle pokes at his dimple, obviously trying to get him to carry on. “No problem, Sani. So this is what I found:</p><p>‘Emyr Versani, son of Emile Versani, the billionaire philanthropist and founder of Versani University, mysteriously died when he was twelve years old.</p><p>Not much can be found regarding Emyr’s personal life. School records show, however, that he was an exemplary student with a record of perfect marks.</p><p>At the time of his death, Emile Versani offered a large sum of money to get justice for his son, to no end. It seems the story of Emyr Versani is destined to remain a mystery forever more.’</p><p>Percy gets to the end of the blurb and looks up at Emyr with a cautious expression. His shoulders are hunched in, and his hand not clenched around the papers is opening and closing into a fist. Emyr realises Percy’s nervous about his reaction.</p><p>“It wasn’t me that died when we were twelve. It was Rosetta. Mother couldn't lose one of her daughters, but she could stand to lose her son,” Emyr says again, voice as firm as it can be with the little quiver it’s acquired. “Father didn’t care, and we buried Rosetta without a funeral because Mother didn’t want anyone to know that my sister was the one to die and not me.”</p><p>A beat passes, and then collectively they all turn back to Luke. He’s still as relaxed and poised as before, but his gaze is intense like he never misses a thing.</p><p>“Your mother made you pretend to be Rosetta?” He guessed softly.</p><p>A lump forms in Emyr’s throat and he tries to swallow it away. He shakes his head and drags a hand over his face, because it’s against Mother’s rules to tell and he just told didn’t he that was bad he was going to get locked again the way Mother always locked him whenever he messed up and didn’t pretend to be Rosetta good enough. “No, n-no she didn’t.”</p><p>“Well, you’re a shite liar,” Kyle says loudly, startling Emyr just a little. He does that sometimes, Kyle: startles everyone in the room. Probably on purpose. “You’ve talked before about your mother making you pretend to be Rosetta, but we never got the context until now. She’s a horrible person for making you pretend to be someone else just because someone died.”</p><p>Kyle’s defense, loud, stern, and a little unnecessary, have tears pricking at Emyr’s eyes. He blinks them back, after taking a second to identify what he’s feeling, and looks towards the floor.</p><p>Liam leans into him a little, pressing his arm against him further. It’s grounding, comforting. Like being in the ice rink in the middle of the night with only the soft hum of the generator and the ice for company.</p><p>“That’s very true,” Luke confirms. “Emyr, I would like to try something if you’d be open to it. A reading.”</p><p>Emyr looks over at Liam. He gives him a small smile and nods in encouragement, so Emyr shrugs. “Sure. I don’t have any idea what that is, but sure.”</p><p>Luke smiles brightly, and Emyr is astounded a little by how beautiful he is. Tyler must see it on his face because he snorts and wiggles his eyebrows at him.</p><p>“Alright then,” he says, standing up and waving his hand at Percy and Kyle, “I’ll need you two layabouts to get up.”</p><p>They do as they’re told, with a little grumbling from Percy and a murmured something from Kyle that sounds like no appreciation around here, and Luke takes their spot. Turning towards Emyr, he smoothes his sweatpants out and places his hands on top, palm up. It’s meant to be an invitation obviously, so Emyr mirrors Luke’s posture and turns on the couch, but hesitates.</p><p>“What’s going to happen?”</p><p>Luke’s eyes, framed by mile long dark lashes and lined with thick black pencil, never leave his face.</p><p>“I’m going to read your energy,” he explains softly, “And maybe I’ll learn a little about your past as well. These things are tricky, you get what you get.”</p><p>Emyr wets his lips and nods. “Okay.”</p><p>Slowly, he places his hands in Luke’s. He’s warm, and his hands are very soft. It dawns on him that he rather the rough feel of Liam’s calloused palms, and he doesn’t really know what to do with that information.</p><p>“Well, well,” Luke says with smirk, “Emyr, my dear. It seems you and I are more alike than I realised.”</p><p>“Alike,” Emyr repeats dubiously. His eyes sweep over his short black hair and sparkly shirt. Maybe alike is one of those words that has changed with time. Like Kyle had taught him about ‘sick’. “You and I?”</p><p>“Yes,” Luke confirms. He closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “You were- are an empath. Low level, you might not have even noticed while your soul and body were partnered. But, now that your soul is adrift, I would assume you feel more of it now.”</p><p>Emyr furrows his brow and looks up, meeting Tyler’s gaze. He’d known he was able to feel what others did in the Before, it happened with his sisters all the time.</p><p>Tyler laughs. “Luke says stuff like that all the time, mate. You get used to it.”</p><p>“No you don’t,” Percy says, shaking his head.</p><p>Liam snorts.</p><p>“Have you been feeling other people’s emotions?” Luke opens her eyes and continues as if no one had said a thing. “That you’ve noticed at least.”</p><p>Emyr shifts a little on the couch, keeping his hands in hers. He thinks about the weird things he’s been feeling.</p><p>“Well,” Emyr says slowly, “Well, I once thought I was in love with a woman.”</p><p>Liam stiffens beside him.</p><p>“Gross,” Kyle drawls. Tyler punches him.</p><p>“No,” Emyr says quickly, shaking his head. “No, I mean. I didn’t love her... I saw a professor drawing a picture of her, and while I was standing there I felt like I was in love. But when she walked away, I felt nothing at all. It was very strange.”</p><p>Luke doesn’t seem to think it’s strange at all. “Just as I thought, you were feeling her love for that woman. Perhaps your medium is artistic expression; have you read others while they were creating?”</p><p>Emyr dithers over that one. He’s never spoken to Liam about the time he’d sat next to him by the tree, and felt those waves of oppression closing in. But now, with this new information, he’s almost 100% sure that what he’d felt that day was very much like the feelings he has, that send him back to pacing in the ice rink. He’s not sure it’s a topic he should bring up, though. It seems personal, raw. Vulnerable.</p><p>“I-It’s not just drawing,” Emyr says, working out how best to phrase it. “When I sit with someone who is sketching, or sculpting, or carving, I sometimes feel what they are feeling.”</p><p>Kyle looks at Liam sharply, holding his gaze with a concerned expression. Emyr doesn’t turn, but he can feel Liam next to him, unnaturally still, and he wonders if he’s trying not to show any reaction.</p><p>“Hmm, yes,” Luke says, with a little nod. “Let’s see what else we’ll be shown.”</p><p>He closes his eyes again and silence falls over the room for several seconds, during which Emyr tries not to fidget too much. Percy is squirmy too, but before he can wiggle off the couch, or something equally Percy like, Luke sucks in a sharp breath.</p><p>“Oh,” he says with a deep sigh, “There’s such sadness, and fear, and hurt here.”</p><p>Emyr’s heart sinks. He knows what Luke’s seeing, he thinks. The time before Liam, the times in the Before, when everything was harsh and cold and Mother always got mad at him and he wasn’t allowed to be Emyr, he had to be Rosetta because his mother had four daughters and a son didn’t matter, only the daughters did. He remembers that time, although he wishes he didn’t.</p><p>“Liam said he was scared,” Tyler says softly. “When we talked about-”</p><p>“No,” Luke says sadly, cutting across him with a shake of his head. He opens his eyes and they glitter with unshed tears. “This is from before. This is from your time. This is why you were able to lose yourself, there’s no anchor that would’ve made you want to stay.”</p><p>Liam shifts beside him and drapes his arm over Emyr’s chest, pulling him flush against him. Like second nature, Emyr presses his lips to the crook of of Liam’s arm. Luke watches the movement and glances away, a smile playing on his lips. Gently, he pulls his hands away.</p><p>“So,” Luke says briskly, standing up and moving back to his own seat, “You’ve got a lot of work to do.”</p><p>Emyr sits up a little straighter but doesn’t pull away from Liam, not quite ready to let go of the comfort of his arm wrapped around him securely. “What kind of work?”</p><p>“Finding yourself work,” Percy says, looking to Luke, “Right?”</p><p>“Right,” he confirms, taking the hand Tyler offers and lacing their fingers together in his lap. “I haven’t helped someone like you, but there are stories, this is not the first occurrence. People sometimes appear to be from a different time or seem to have not aged-”</p><p>“Anne Hathaway! I told you,” Percy hisses at Kyle.</p><p>Luke smirks. “You’ll need to find out who you are, and as you do, your body and soul will become one again. You’re corporeal, so you’re already on your way.”</p><p>Emyr’s brain feels sluggish, weighed down by all this new information. But suddenly, everything starts making sense.</p><p>“I couldn’t really smell things,” he says slowly. Absentmindedly he brings his hand up and wraps his fingers around Liam’s forearms. “Not until I realised I liked being around Tyler and Liam when they’re in the kitchen and baking.”</p><p>Kyle laughs. “Well that's convenient as it’s one of their favorite pastimes.”</p><p>Liam chuckles too, so close that his breath puffs warms against Emyr’s ear. He shivers.</p><p>Luke nods, encouraging him on.</p><p>“And- and I couldn’t touch things until Kyle brought me to his drama class.” Emyr looks up at Kyle and blinks. “We were talking about me wanting to act, like Faith wanted to.”</p><p>“See,” Luke says excitedly, “What about now? You’ve just learned you aren’t a spirit, and a little bit about your past. Do you feel anything now?”</p><p>Emyr sits back, letting his full weight fall against Liam’s chest, and contemplates for a moment. Then he lets out a surprised laugh, turning to Liam in disbelief.</p><p>“I think I’m hungry.”</p><p>“Oh thank god,” Tyler says, standing up, pulling Luke with him. “I’ve been ready to eat my own hand for an hour now. I’ll get the takeaway menus.”</p><p>He walks towards the kitchen, Luke following along behind with a fond smile, and Kyle and Percy follow. Liam lets his arm drop and nudges at Emyr until he shifts around and they’re facing each other.</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>Emyr takes a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s just..”</p><p>Liam nods. “Yeah, I bet,” he takes Emyr’s hand and squeezes. “Want a breather?”</p><p>Yes, that is absolutely what Emyr wants, but he also wants to stay here, close to Liam with their hands wrapped up together. He looks down, chewing on his lip.</p><p>“I can come, if you want,” Liam tries, tilting Emyr’s chin up with his knuckle. “We can go up on the roof and just get some air while they figure out the food.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Emyr agrees, nearly blinded by Liam’s responding smile, “I’d like that.”</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s cold on the roof; the walls are low and provide very little protection from the December wind. Emyr’s not yet used to thinking about how the weather will affect him, but Liam had put him in one of his extra coats and shoved a hat on his head, before leading him up the side stairwell. As a gust of wind rakes over him, stinging his cheeks and trying to steal his breath away, Emyr wants to feel the cold without the added layers like he used to in the Before.</p><p>Liam brings him around the left side, to a few chairs that are set up in a little group around an overturned crate and a metal contraption that Emyr can’t identify.</p><p>“Here, sit,” Liam says, indicating to one of the chairs with his chin. “I’ll start this.”</p><p>Emyr sits down in the lawn chair warily, it doesn’t look like the most sturdy of things, and watches Liam work. The sun is setting behind him, shadowing his face and painting the sky a watercolour blend of purples and reds and pinks and blues. He looks like art, like someone reached down from the clouds and painted him just for Emyr.</p><p>The crate, as it turns out, is turned over to protect a pile of newspapers. Liam pulls a few out and tosses them in the metal bowl, and then separates one piece, twisting it around into a sphere. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his lighter, Emyr’s favorite one with the Batman logo on it, and lights the sphere on fire.</p><p>“There we go,” Liam says, tossing it in with the rest of newspaper. He sits down next to Emyr and shoves his hands in his pockets. “That’s better.”</p><p>“Is this safe?” Emyr asks suspiciously. “I don’t know that open fire like this is safe.”</p><p>It’s his way of saying he doesn’t want the fire, he wants to feel cold like he had during winters in the Before when he’d played with Taylor and Lisa and Faith and Rosetta had stayed inside because Rosetta had hated the cold.</p><p>Liam rolls his eyes. “Yes, fun police, it’s safe. I’ve got an extinguisher behind the door.”</p><p>Emyr wants to point out that being able to put out an out of control fire doesn’t necessarily equal safety, but Liam narrows his eyes at him like he knows, and starts talking again.</p><p>“So, I guess I really can’t call you a hallucination anymore, huh?”</p><p>“What a shame,” Emyr intones. “It’s such a lovely pet name.”</p><p>Liam laughs, pulling his hood up and squirming down a little further into his coat. “I could tell you really liked it.”</p><p>Emyr rolls his eyes. “Obviously you’ve got a really firm understanding of what I like.”</p><p>A beat passes and something in the air around them shifts. Emyr looks away from the fire and at Liam, who he finds staring at him already.</p><p>“I think I might,” Liam says lowly.</p><p>The fire crackles between them, the light dances in Liam’s eyes, and Emyr has to look away. His mouth has gone dry and his heart doesn’t seem to remember to which rhythm it's supposed to beat.</p><p>“Do you want to talk about,” Liam starts, pausing to wave his hand around. “All that from before. With Luke. You know?”</p><p>Emyr sighs. “I think the worst part is finding out he could feel how much it hurt in the Before,” he admits. “I hadn’t really thought about it, I guess. But, knowing that someone else knows it's been this way for… well, forever for me. It’s upsetting.”</p><p>Liam pulls his hands from his pockets and leans forward, dropping his elbows onto his thighs. He’s got the lighter out and he runs his fingers over it, absentmindedly. “I know it wasn’t your fault, for whatever it’s worth. Whatever the reason you were alone, I know it wasn’t because of something you did.”</p><p>Emyr turns back to the fire and swallows. “How could you know that?”</p><p>“I just do,” Liam says, voice firm but quiet. “You’re the gentlest person I know. You’d never hurt someone, not physically, not emotionally. You’re soft and sweet and- and brave. If you were alone it’s because the people in your life were mean.”</p><p>Emyr’s throat aches and before he realises what's happening, a tear slides down his cheek. He reaches up with his trembling hand and wipes it away; its warm on the tip of his finger, wet when he rubs his thumb against it. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”</p><p>Liam’s reaches over and takes his hand. “You’re not.”</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>They spend a few more moments on the roof together. By the time Emyr’s tears have dried, and all of their fingers have practically frozen off, the sun has set and the moon’s light is shimmering through the clouds. They extinguish the fire, which takes a bit of time because Emyr finds the fire extinguisher really brill, and then head back to the flat.</p><p>The dining room table, when they walk in, is like nothing Emyr has ever seen before. There are white, square boxes covering the entire surface. The smell is divine, rich and a little spicy, filling the entire room. Emyr can’t place it, but it makes his mouth water instantly. Percy and Kyle look a bit bashful but Tyler looks absolutely delighted.</p><p>Emyr slowly takes off his, Liam’s, coat and hat, and hangs them on the back of the closest chair. “Oh my gosh.”</p><p>Kyle chokes on his beer. “Language, please Emyr,” he gasps out as Percy pounds on his back.</p><p>Standing at the head of the table with a smile, Tyler waves a hand in the space before him, indicating the food. “We realised we had no idea what kind of pizza you like. Do you even know?”</p><p>“Huh,” Emyr says, thinking about it, “I guess, I don’t.”</p><p>“So,” Liam says slowly, moving around Emyr to toss his coat on the chair as well, “What did you do, buy every kind?”</p><p>“Not every kind,” Luke says, walking out of the kitchen with his arms full of paper plates and napkins. “Just the main ones- plain, pepperoni, ranch chicken, Hawaiian, and vegetarian.”</p><p>Liam shakes his head and walks into the kitchen, tugging Emyr along with him by his shirt sleeve. “Come on, I’ve got to wash my hands.”</p><p>“Do you think we’re going to eat all of that,” Emyr asks, watching Liam shove his sleeves up to his elbows. “That seems like an awful lot.”</p><p>“Maybe.” Hands full of bubbles, Liam hesitates for a second and then grabs Emyr’s wrist and pulls him in front of the sink. He stands behind Emyr, boxing him in and putting their hands together under the tap. “It depends on how Tyler’s feeling, really. And who knows how much you like to eat.”</p><p>“Oh,” Emyr says, surprised by both the action and the warm water suddenly running over his hands. The water after the pottery debacle had been freezing. “That feels nice.”</p><p>“Mhmm,” Liam hums, his chest rumbles with it and Emyr shifts a little, feeling a flush creep up his neck.</p><p>“You don’t have to help,” Emyr says softly, watching Liam’s fingers slide through the bubbles and twist through his own. “I can do some things.”</p><p>The scent of the fire has clung to Liam and it drifts around Emyr, he resists the urge to turn his head and press his nose to his shirt and inhale.</p><p>“I know,” Liam says. His body moves in a way that Emyr thinks means he’s shrugged. “I like it. I like helping you.”</p><p>Liam’s fingers are rough and calloused but his touch is gentle. Emyr’s mind starts to drift a little to thoughts of Liam’s hands drawing lazy shapes against his skin. The tap shutting off with a click snaps him out of it before he can embarrass himself with another inconvenient erection.</p><p>Liam dries his hands with a dish towel and then tosses it to Emyr. He stands against the counter and watches Emyr dry his own hands with a strange intensity that doesn’t help the hot flush Emyr’s been fighting back.</p><p>Seemingly done with the incredibly distracting hand washing, Liam heads out to the dining room and finds a chair. Emyr follows his lead, sitting next to him. The chairs scrape against the floor as everyone pulls them away from the table, sitting down and reaching for the boxes. As Emyr watches, their arms tangle over the food, their laughter and chatter flows endlessly, bouncing happily off the walls. It’s loud and joyous, barely contained chaos, and Emyr knows that at one point he might have been overwhelmed, but now he just feels happy.</p><p>Liam gets his attention with a soft tap to his arm. “What do you want to start with?”</p><p>Emyr shakes his head. “I have absolutely not a clue.”</p><p>“Do you know what pizza is?” Percy asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Have you seen it before?”</p><p>Emyr tries not to bristle. It’s hard not to feel like your intelligence is constantly being called into question when you’re learning about the world all over again. Plus, Emyr thinks, his irritation might have something to do with the hunger.</p><p>“I know, yeah,” Emyr says. “I’ve never had it before, obviously, but I’ve seen other people eat it. I don’t know which kind I’d like.”</p><p>“Well,” Liam says, sliding a plate in front of each of them, “My mum always says you won’t know if you like something unless you try it. So how about a bit of each?”</p><p>“Alright,” Emyr says with a nod.</p><p>Liam opens the box closest to them and pulls out one of the triangular slices, putting one first on his plate then another on Emyr’s. “We’ll start with just cheese.”</p><p>The conversation around the table never slows or dims, and Emyr is grateful for that. There’s a low hum of nervousness in his stomach and he’d rather not know what would happen if everyone were to turn and watch. Liam’s eyes are on him, but that’s alright. That’s always alright.</p><p>“Alright,” Liam says, turning his chair so he’s facing Emyr a bit more. “There’s a lot of ways to go about eating this. Some people use a fork and knife-”</p><p>“Not in this house they don’t,” Percy mutters almost threateningly.</p><p>Liam smiles, scrunching his nose and stopping Emyr’s heart for a second. “Yeah, we don’t do that. But some people do. What I do is eat it from the point and leave the crust.”</p><p>Emyr watches him carefully as he picks up his pizza and leans over his plate a little to take a bite.</p><p>“Like that,” Liam says around a mouthful.</p><p>Well, Emyr supposes, that doesn’t look too hard. He rubs his hands over his thighs nervously, but his stomach rumbles, making itself a priority.</p><p>The crust is warm and malleable, it’s coated in a fine layer of dust that Emyr rolls under his fingertips before picking it up like Liam had. A drop of oil, orange and swift moving, rolls down the cheese and onto the plate. The smell is intoxicating.</p><p>“Good thing it’s just as good cold,” Kyle quips. “You’re supposed to eat it not-”</p><p>There’s a loud thump under the table and Kyle groans. Probably Liam’s kicked him. Liam’s lovely. Emyr glances up at him, making a face that he’s pretty sure expresses that sentiment, and then takes a bite.</p><p>“Oh my God,” he says softly, “That’s the best thing in the whole world.”</p><p>Liam laughs. “I’m not sure you’re in the position to make that kind of statement, mate.”</p><p>Well, Emyr supposes that’s true, but there’s very little chance that anything tastes better than this. The crust is crispy, crunches just a bit under his teeth, but the cheese is soft and smooth. There’s salt in the sauce and a bit of tang and it’s just so good.</p><p>“Do you want another?” Liam asks before Emyr’s even finished chewing. He’s always watching Emyr in an non invasive way that leaves Emyr feeling cared for. “We can try another kind.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Emyr agrees quietly.</p><p>“Pepperoni?” Liam nudges his chin towards the box. “I don’t eat it, but I can give you a slice, obviously.”</p><p>“Why don’t you?” Emyr asks, cleaning his hands on a napkin. Pizza is messy but so very worth it, as far as Emyr’s concerned.</p><p>“I don’t like it,” Liam says. “Do you want some though?”</p><p>It looks tasty enough, but something about trying something on his own makes him feel a little twinge of nerves. It’s probably ridiculous but he shakes his head anyway. Liam hesitates, watching him for a couple seconds and then closes the box, opening another.</p><p>“Alright, Hawaiian it is.”</p><p>Emyr’s just gotten through his fourth slice of pizza, when his experience with eating is changed all over again.</p><p>With a promise of a surprise, Tyler demands they stack up the pizza boxes to make room and heads into the kitchen. He comes back out with a white, square box that makes Luke clap and Percy cheer.</p><p>Emyr looks to Liam questioningly and he winks. “You’ll see.”</p><p>Setting it in the middle of the table, Tyler opens the top. Emyr leans forward a little bit so he can see inside and smiles. “Profiteroles!”</p><p>“You know what they are,” Tyler huffs, crossing his arms. “I wanted to take your virginity.”</p><p>The entire room freezes like its been dropped in a vat of liquid nitrogen. Seven full seconds pass in silence so complete, Emyr thinks he might actually be able to hear Liam’s eyelashes cutting through the air every time he blinks.</p><p>“I’ve had them,” Emyr says, clearing his throat and ignoring how hot his face has gone. “They aren’t a modern thing. They’re- I’ve had them. I remember them. Taylor and Lisa used to make them when it was mine and Rosetta’s birthday because Rosetta loved them even more than me and Faith combined.”</p><p>Luke, a kind, and merciful man Emyr decides, follows his detour, “Do you remember any other food? Maybe even some others with significance to you.”</p><p>Emyr leans back in his chair and thinks. It’s a weird process, having people he can tell about his family stuff to. A lot of things are never going to be said from Before though, no matter how they beg him to.</p><p>“Tea,” he says eventually. “I remember Lisa absolutely despised chamomile tea.”</p><p>Kyle nods, clearly approving of Lisa’s tea preferences. He reaches across the table and using a serving spoon, scoops two onto first his and then Liam’s plate. </p><p>Profiteroles taste better than Emyr remembers. The pastry is light and flaky and the chocolate is thick and sweet- and dark. Rosetta had hated dark chocolate, but it had been Emyr’s favourite. As it hits his tongue, a memory from Before flashes quickly through Emyr’s consciousness; a teen woman, Taylor, smiling and beautiful with green eyes and black curls piled up on her head, with a slightly younger woman, Lisa, who had the same bright green eyes but wavy red hair instead of curly black, wiping the chocolate off their hands and telling Emyr and Faith to wait a bit, it’s not done yet, Rosetta’s white chocolate ones need to be made too.</p><p>“Do you like it?” Liam asks, startling him.</p><p>Emyr drops the pastry and makes a grab for it to keep it from hitting the floor. He gets it, but he sighs at his chocolate filled hands. “What a mess.”</p><p>Liam snorts, rolling his eyes, “You could stand to get a bit messy.” Taking a pastry from his own plate he grins and tosses at Emyr.</p><p>Spurred on only by an intense desire to keep Luke’s right side from being assaulted via dessert, Emyr manages to grab it from the air with his left hand.</p><p>Looking down at his chocolate covered hands, and the flakes of pastry across his lap, he sighs and narrows his eyes at Liam. “Messy enough?”</p><p>“Nope,” Liam says immediately, with another grin that Emyr is starting to associated with rotten behavior. Lightning quick, he reaches his hand out, smears some of the chocolate in Emyr’s hand onto his own fingertips and then leans forward with it towards Emyr’s face.</p><p>Later, during a thoroughly reflective freezing cold shower, remembering the next thing he does makes his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Because Liam’s intention is probably to get chocolate all over Emyr’s cheeks, but he doesn’t let Liam do that. Instead, Emyr makes everything incredibly weird by tilting forward and taking Liam’s fingers into his mouth, like he’s offered them everyday.</p><p>Liam inhales sharply as Percy starts coughing violently. Luke murmurs “oh my”, ever so quietly. And Emyr…Emyr sucks.</p><p>Using some kind of instinct Emyr’s only ever used in the Before, he closes his eyes and works his tongue over and between Liam’s fingers, licking them clean. He bites down, just a tiny bit on Liam’s knuckle, and he’s rewarded with a little push further into his mouth. Suddenly, he wants them deeper. Deeper and wider. He wants Liam to spread his fingers, to add more, to fill his mouth completely until spit is dripping down his chin sloppily.</p><p>“If you wouldn’t mind keeping the wanton moaning to a minimum while I’m eating,” Kyle says casually around a mouthful. “It’s only I’d rather not have all this come right back up. Waste of money and all that.”</p><p>Emyr comes back to himself like someone’s hooked a line to his belt and is dragging him through the water at top speed. He yanks his mouth away and flies backward, slamming his back into the chair.</p><p>“I don’t-” he pants, shaking his head with wide eyes. “I don’t know what that was. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Liam looks away from him, shifting around in his chair. “Maybe you’re more of a fan of chocolate than you realised.”</p><p>Tyler opens his mouth but Luke clamps his hand over it, firmly.</p><p>Luke’s awesome.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Despite having what Kyle likes to call his brand new, fresh out of the box, real boy body, Emyr does not sleep. He’s never slept before in the After, so it’s not something he feels he’s missing out on. But, now that he can’t simply pop in and out of space and time, he’s more aware of the time he spends awake while the other boys are tucked away.</p><p>At first he’d occupied his time by roaming around the flat, strolling from room to room and investigating his surroundings silently. But, after a complaint from a sleep deprived downstairs neighbour, he’d had to stop that. It’s a little boring, watching late night tv adverts all on his own, but he doesn’t complain. He doesn’t want to bother anyone with such a little issue. But each night, the little issue starts to feel a little bigger. He feels more and more restless. Caged in. Cooped up.</p><p>Somehow, Luke knows.</p><p>“Hello, my dear,” he greets, coming through the front door. “How’s life on the solid side?”</p><p>Emyr, elbow deep in hot dishwater, smiles at her over his shoulder. “Pretty good. Had an ice cream cone today.”</p><p>Luke nods solemnly. “One of life’s most important pleasures.”</p><p>Emyr rinses his hands and turns to her, drying his hands on a dish towel. He nudges his chin in the direction of his pretty blue shirt and suspiciously-looking-like-they-belong-to-Tyler jeans. “You look very pretty.”</p><p>“You always say that,” he says, blushing prettily, but tilting his head a little in a way that Emyr is fairly certain is supposed to draw attention to his silver, dangly earring.</p><p>“It’s always true,” Emyr says with a shrug. “Pretty earring too. New?”</p><p>He nods, pleased. “Tyler got them for me.”</p><p>“Presents,” Emyr confirms, “My favourite.”</p><p>Luke lights up and swings his large black bag (Emyr had almost gotten slapped for calling it a purse once) onto the kitchen table. “Good! I’ve got some for you too!”</p><p>Emyr’s not sure how he’d look in dangly earrings, and his ears aren’t even pierced, but a gift is such a thoughtful thing and he doesn’t want to offend him.</p><p>“Emyr,” Luke says with a tinkling laugh, interrupting his inner struggle, “I meant a present, not a set of earrings. You should see the look on your face!”</p><p>Oh. Well that’s certainly a relief. “What kind of present?”</p><p>Emyr watches as he opens the bag and pulls out a large pad similar to the ones Liam has in seemingly every corner of the flat, and a set of pencils.</p><p>He places his palm on the pad and regards Emyr with a soft smile. “I’ve been having some restless nights.”</p><p>Confused, Emyr furrows his brow. “Oh?”</p><p>“Mmhmm,” Luke continues, “I can’t seem to get a full night's rest. These things happen of course. Our bodies shift with the tides of the ocean, the pull of the moon, the emotional state of those around us. It’s just a matter of refocusing unbalanced energy. When I sat down to take stock of my energy, I realised where the imbalance is coming from.”</p><p>Emyr slips down into one of the chairs and stares at him, enthralled. “Where?”</p><p>“You.”</p><p>Emyr sits up taller, startled. He doesn’t feel...imbalanced. Although, it stands to reason that he might not have ever been balanced in the After and he’s got nothing to compare to if he didn’t count the Before. Either way, he feels kind of bad.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Luke waves him a way with a tsk. “Nothing you can do about it, love. Not on your own anyway. That’s why I brought this.” He pats the pad and gives Emyr a little smug smile. “I feel a lot of pent about creativity around you. I think you should give yourself an outlet and see how it goes.”</p><p>Emyr eyes the pencils apprehensively. “I’ve never drawn anything in the After. I’m probably rubbish.”</p><p>“Yes, most likely,” Luke confirms breezily. “But I won’t be grading you. What’s there to lose?”</p><p>Emyr thinks that over for a moment and supposes it’s true. Luke’s not asking him to swordfight like in that silly movie Liam loves with the giant rats. This is just drawing, he can handle that.</p><p>“Thank you,” Emyr says at last, “For the present and the suggestion. You’re lovely, you know?”</p><p>Luke sighs happily, eyes twinkling. “I am, aren’t I?”</p><p>“You’re late is what you are,” Tyler grumbles from the doorway of the kitchen. Emyr looks up and tries desperately to hide his smirk at Tyler’s grumpy expression. “All the good seats will be taken.”</p><p>“I got here right on time,” Luke says, getting up from his chair and rolling his eyes. “I’ll point out that you’ve not finished getting dressed, while we’re tossing around blame.”</p><p>Tyler pouts and crosses his arms. The smirk gets harder for Emyr to conceal. “I’ve been waiting on you, haven’t I. I need help picking a shirt.”</p><p>Luke crosses the kitchen, stopping at Tyler’s side to give him a pat on the cheek. “I’m sorry, love. I’m all yours now.”</p><p>Tyler grumbles a little more but allows Luke to take his hand. They’re only a few steps into the hall when Luke stops and looks over his shoulder at Emyr.</p><p>“It’s Princess Bride,” he says.</p><p>Emyr furrows his brow. “What is?”</p><p>“The movie,” Luke says, raising a brow. “The one you were thinking of. It’s Princess Bride.”</p><p>With a wink, he turns back around and heads down the hall, pulling Tyler along behind him. Emyr stares after Luke in amazement for several minutes.</p><p>He’s a strange man but he means well, Emyr thinks, running his fingers over the glossy cover of the drawing pad. Emyr, like probably everyone else in Luke’s life, trusts him. Plus, Luke’s right that he’s got nothing to lose.</p><p>So, he gently flips open the cover of the pad and folds it behind. Then he opens up the package, picks a pencil and drags it across the page, getting a feel for the way the graphite moves against the paper, how the pencil fits in his fingers. Although he can’t remember ever holding a pencil in the After, let alone sketching, the picture pours out onto the paper like honey from a jar. It’s a slow process, but smooth and natural- one he gets lost in. it’s just like the Before, when he’d been able to hide away long enough to draw what he saw.</p><p>When he looks up again, Tyler is standing fully dressed in the doorway with Luke, and when he follows their eyes back down to his page, he finds an entire scene sketched out. It’s of Taylor and Lisa and Faith and him and Rosetta in the kitchen from the Before, when Taylor and Lisa would make them chocolatey sweets when Mother wasn’t looking.</p><p>“Did you do that?”</p><p>Emyr snaps his head up at the awe in Tyler’s voice. “I- well. Yeah, I guess I did.”</p><p>Tyler takes a step into the kitchen and Luke puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going downstairs, okay?”</p><p>Tyler nods and comes to sit across from Emyr. “Can I see it?”</p><p>His voice is soft and reassuring. Emyr wants to think that he doesn’t need it, that it’s just a drawing and there’s no reason to make a big deal. But something about the gray smudges and lines feels intimate, like he’s telling his deepest secrets. And he knows that he does need that reassurance. How Tyler knows is anyone’s guess, maybe Luke is rubbing off on him.</p><p>Emyr takes a steadying breath and nods. He slides the pad across the table and lets Tyler pull it in front of himself.</p><p>Tyler studies it silently for a few moments and then looks up, expression careful. “Have you ever done anything like this before?”</p><p>Emyr shakes his head immediately and then pauses. “Well, I don’t think so. I haven’t since…”</p><p>“Since you became a real boy,” Tyler guesses, smirking.</p><p>“Yes, Tyler,” Emyr grumbles, “Since I became a real boy.”</p><p>Tyler chuckles to himself and looks back down at the drawing. As Emyr watches, Tyler drags his fingertips gently over the pencil marks.</p><p>“Who are they?” Tyler asks, looking up again. “They’re very pretty.”</p><p>Emyr shrugs. “My sisters. Lisa, Taylor, Faith, and Rosetta, and I added me in too for some reason.”</p><p>“This is incredible work, Emyr,” Tyler says, furrowing his brow when Emyr looks down and shakes his head. “No. Emyr. This is incredible. Do you think I’d lie?”</p><p>Emyr looks up quickly, aghast. “No! No, I don’t think you’re a liar, Tyler. I just- I just think you’re being nice. You know, trying to make me feel good.”</p><p>Tyler leans forward in his chair, meeting Emyr’s gaze and holding it seriously. “Look, my Nan always told me there’s a voice inside everyone’s head that says they’re not good enough, that they’ve not done a good enough job. And my Nan said that voice is a liar. She knew everything, my Nan, so I do too by extension, so you’d better listen to me.”</p><p>“Everyone says that,” Emyr says softly. Tyler makes a confused kind of face and Emyr continues on. “Everyone says that I should listen to you. Percy and Kyle and Liam.”</p><p>Tyler leans back in the chair and gives him a bland look. “Of course they do, Emyr. I’m obviously the smartest, aren’t I?”</p><p>Emyr blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, probably.”</p><p>Tyler smiles and raps the table with his knuckle. “That’s right. I am undoubtedly the smartest of this tribe and I declare this art incredible. Don’t argue with me, it will set me off my dinner and then we’ll have a serious problem, Versani.”</p><p>“That’s me told,” Emyr says, laughing softly.</p><p>Tyler has a way of opening someone up, rooting around in their emotions for a while, and then stitching them back up neatly and sending them on their way none the wiser. Emyr watches him get up from the table and plant a kiss on his cheek, the entire time thinking he’s so glad he gets to be his friend.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Four nights later, when the flat is silent, save for the sounds of the sleeping boys, Emyr starts what has become his nightly ritual. From the drawer by the fridge that previously held dozens of copies of the same take out menu and random rubbish, he pulls out his pad and pencils and sits at the table. He likes sketching, likes the feel of the paper, likes the way his mind seems to take over. It gives him something to do while the world lays quiet around him, and he feels lighter after, like he’s set down a weight he’d not known he was carrying.</p><p>He knows who he’ll draw before he even flips to a fresh page. When Liam had seen the women, his expression was resolutely neutral except for a tick in his jaw that probably only Emyr noticed. He’d relaxed though, when Emyr had explained that the women were his sisters. They’d spent a bit of time after that, with Emyr describing each of his sisters and talking about them with Liam the way he never had before in the After but he was learning how to talk about his family.</p><p>He’s just finished the last wave-curls of her hair when the sky starts to pinken around the rise of the sun. Leaning back in his chair, he eyes the drawing pad with a small smile.</p><p>“Hi, Faith,” he whispers.</p><p>She doesn’t answer, a fact that Kyle had been loudly relieved about the day before, but Emyr feels like maybe wherever she is in the After, she can hear him. Stranger things have happened, he reasons.</p><p>“Tyler tried baking a pie today,” he confides, scrunching up his nose at the memory of the burnt smell. “It didn’t go well.”</p><p>He spots some eraser bits by her chin and brushes them off gently. “Percy says it’s beginner’s bad luck. But I’m fairly certain beginners are supposed to have good luck. Liam agrees but we decided to let it go. The pie fire was probably blow enough to his ego.”</p><p>A little bird lands on the ledge by the kitchen window. Emyr watches it hop around for a few moments. When it finds nothing interesting, it flies away and Emyr turns back to the sketch, looking at her kind eyes that were that familiar bright green all his sisters shared with him now that he had coloured pencils for sketching his sisters properly.</p><p>“I’m okay. I want you to know that,” Emyr says, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “I’m..well I’m safe. And I’ve got friends, real friends, a bunch of them. I don’t think I had that before. I keep remembering Mother getting angry because I couldn't convince Rosetta’s friends that i was her and I wasn’t allowed to be around my own friends anymore. Either way, it’s not like that now, sis. I’ve got the boys and- and I’m happy.”</p><p>Tears swim in his eyes, blurring the sketch and surprising him. He lets them fall for a moment, sad for his past and happy for his amazing present. Then with one last smile to Faith, he stands up and starts setting up the coffee pot.</p><p>His boys will be up soon.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Percy, wonderful as he is, has some not wonderful habits. For instance, he seems to think nothing of laying out on any surface in the flat, and upon deciding he needs Emyr, tipping his head back and screaming for him at the very top of his voice. He’s got perfectly functional legs, even if he trips over his feet quite often, so Emyr’s not sure why he feels the need to do this. Tyler’s not sure either. But Liam, when Emyr had asked him, said that he thinks Kyle has turned Percy into a spoiled brat. Emyr thinks that if that’s true, it probably doesn’t help the situation that he always goes to him.</p><p>“Why are you laying on the floor?” Emyr says, kicking at Percy’s leg. “The kitchen is too cold, you’re going to get sick.”</p><p>Instead of getting up like Emyr would really like him to do, Percy just reaches out and grabs hold of Emyr’s ankle. “Whose socks are these?”</p><p>Emyr looks down at his feet clad in grey socks covered in large, soft-coloured circles, and wiggles his toes. “Tyler’s.”</p><p>Part of being corporeal is having to worry about things like clothes. He obviously doesn’t own any clothes, so he’s been borrowing from the boys. Tyler had given him the socks that morning, but the joggers are Liam’s, and just a bit too long.</p><p>Percy nods, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over Emyr’s ankle. “That’s what I thought.”</p><p>“Well spotted,” Emyr says, rolling his eyes. “Was there a reason behind this meeting, or do you just have a sixth sense for when I’ve gotten to the best part of my book?”</p><p>“The wife did it,” Percy intones, scrambling up and across the kitchen with a cackle before Emyr can grab him.</p><p>“Stop telling me,” Emyr snaps. “Why do you do that? You’re awful.”</p><p>“I know. I’m the worst,” Percy agrees with ease. “Well now you know, so you can put the book down and come play keepie uppies with us.”</p><p>Emyr narrows his eyes. “What are keepie uppies?”</p><p>“Keep ups,” Kyle says sharply, voice growing closer as he walks down the hall, “Is a footie exercise. It’s a game, keep the ball up.”</p><p>Kyle opens up the fridge and Percy slinks over to him, sliding his socked feet across the kitchen tile like he’s being pulled to Kyle’s side by a magnetic force.</p><p>“Percy just said it’s called-”</p><p>Kyle turns from the fridge to glare at Emyr over Percy’s head. “My hearing is perfectly fine, Emyr, thank you. Why do you always repeat things to me?”</p><p>Emyr has never, not even once, repeated a word to Kyle besides this exact instance.</p><p>“You’re awful too,” Emyr says, crossing his arms. “You’re both awful.”</p><p>“Yup,” they say in unison, smiling like they’d just solved world hunger.</p><p>Kyle hands Percy a water bottle and shuts the fridge door. He tosses one to Emyr too, who only barely catches it.</p><p>“So, are you in or not?”</p><p>Emyr’s not really sure he wants to play any kind of physical activity with Kyle, who is already pretty into being as physical as possible. Plus, Tyler broke the monopoly board two nights back so if this game is competitive at all, who knows what will be broken this time.</p><p>“Liam’s gonna play,” Percy says, smirking. “He always ends up with his shirt off.”</p><p>“What do I need to wear?”</p><p>Physical activity is incredibly important, after all.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna grab the water from the car,” Liam tells him, wiping his brow with his balled up vest. “Can you tell them if they ask?”</p><p>Emyr follows Liam’s line of sight to across the pitch to where Percy, Kyle, and Tyler are sprawled out together. “Yeah, alright.”</p><p>Emyr makes his way across to them, painfully aware of muscles he’d not even had a week or so ago. Tyler is leaning back on his forearms watching Kyle rip up clumps of grass and toss them into Percy’s hair</p><p>“Hey,” he greets them, slowly lowering himself to the ground. Tyler’s the only one who acknowledges him, as Kyle is working pretty diligently on getting his boyfriend into a headlock.</p><p>“Hey yourself,” Tyler says, smiling lazily at him, “Have fun?”</p><p>Emyr nods, watching Kyle and Percy wrestle around. They’re just about fairly matched strength wise, but Kyle is scrappier, fights like a wild animal with his back against the wall. It’s not long until he’s got Percy pinned to the ground crying ‘uncle’.</p><p>Emyr’s just getting a little worried about the shade of red Percy’s face is turning when Percy reaches over and taps Kyle’s thigh three times gently - pat, pat, pat. Immediately, Kyle rolls off and lets him free. They lay next to each other flat in the grass panting and laughing as Tyler looks on, smiling softly. Percy’s hand is still on Kyle’s thigh, rubbing back and forth slowly, as easy as anything.</p><p>Emyr stares, thinking about the first time he’d touched Liam, how much he’s wanted to touch him ever since. How Liam had looked running around the pitch, shirtless and smiling openly. His heart starts to race uncomfortably in his chest as he filters through all the half thought out day dreams he has of he and Liam. He rolls his shoulders back, trying to get himself to calm down and then-</p><p>“I touched him,” Emyr blurts out loudly.</p><p>Percy’s hand freezes on Kyle’s thigh and he goes from rubbing to gripping it tightly. Emyr looks up from Percy’s hand to his face and sucks in a startled breath. Percy, sweet faced, freckled, happy go lucky Percy, looks terrifying.</p><p>“Did ya?” he says lowly, narrowing his eyes and glaring at him so hotly, Emyr genuinely worries he might burst into flames.</p><p>It’s a bit of a confusing reaction and it takes Emyr just under a minute to work through what would make Percy that upset. While he grapples with it, Tyler and Kyle slowly sit up and stare at him. Tyler looks a bit frightened and Kyle looks completely confused.</p><p>Percy still looks murderous.</p><p>“Yes. I-” Percy’s eyes flick to Kyle’ face and then away, and Emyr finally gets it. “Oh! No, not Kyle. Liam. Liam, I meant Liam.”</p><p>Percy’s shoulders relax and his face clears. Tyler groans and flops back onto the grass mumbling, “Oh thank god.” Kyle pokes Percy in the cheek.</p><p>“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to share,” he needles, poking him in the cheek again and then the side. He cackles when Percy swats at him and shoots him a glare.</p><p>“No,” Percy snaps, “I don’t share.”</p><p>“I don’t want to share,” Emyr clarifies quickly, worried Angry Percy is going to make a reappearance.</p><p>“Oi!” Kyle shouts, furrowing his brow. “That’s a bit bloody offensive, Emyr.”</p><p>It is, Emyr is beyond certain now, impossible to win when dealing with Kyle and Percy in any capacity.</p><p>“Go,” Percy orders, shoving at Kyle’s side and rolling him over into Tyler. “Go, now. Emyr is having a gay crisis. Go.”</p><p>“I’m not-” Emyr sputters, but Percy holds up a finger, stopping him.</p><p>“Get. Up.” Percy says, shoving Kyle and Tyler now with both hands. “Get up right now and go do something somewhere else or I won’t make quesadillas for a month.”</p><p>That seems to be the magic motivator, because they get up with a few groans and march away. Percy watches them go with narrowed eyes and only when they are all the way across the pitch does he turn back and look at Emyr.</p><p>“Alright.” Percy crosses his legs and rests his palms on his knees. “What level of panic are we at here?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Emyr says automatically. “I’m not panicked at all.”</p><p>Percy looks utterly unimpressed. “Hence the red face and strange proclamations?”</p><p>Emyr looks away, trying to get his thoughts in order. Only his thoughts keep scrambling around in his head and slipping right through his finger tips, refusing to be organised in any sort of way.</p><p>“Emyr,” Percy says gently, “Can you look at me?”</p><p>He can, yeah, but he doesn’t really want to. With a sigh, he meets Percy’s eye and the soft look on his face makes him wish he hadn’t said anything at all.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Emyr insists firmly.</p><p>“What do you feel when you think about Li?” Percy asks, like Emyr hadn’t said anything at all.</p><p>What a ridiculous question. How is Emyr supposed to answer that? He feels…well he feels safe when they sit together quietly in Liam’s room. He feels looked after when Liam catches little details about him that everyone else overlooks. He feels excited when Liam paints something new, sad when he scraps a project altogether. Irritated when Liam rolls his eyes at him for being “too sensible”. Scared when Liam’s close, so close his breath coasts across his skin.</p><p>“Everything,” Emyr says quietly, gnawing on his bottom lip, “I feel everything in the world when I think about him.”</p><p>Percy nods, “That’s how I feel about Kyle, you know. I think it’s a beautiful thing, to feel all that because of one person.”</p><p>Emyr hesitates, thinking that over. A movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. He turns and watches Kyle and Tyler, across the pitch. Kyle is riding Tyler piggy back style, with his fist in the air shouting “Onward my knobby kneed steed!” at the top of his voice. Emyr smiles despite himself.</p><p>“I think, I think I want that,” Emyr says, still watching them roughhouse.</p><p>Percy makes an inquisitive sort of noise behind him and Emyr snaps his head around. “Not with Kyle I mean,” he says quickly.</p><p>Percy snorts. “I got that yeah. But, I wouldn’t say that too often or you’ll offend him and you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s a bit sensitive you know. Once Tyler said he reminded him of a peacock and Kyle gave him the silent treatment for a week.”</p><p>Emyr blinks. “That’s-”</p><p>“The price of being in love with a drama student,” Percy says, with a broad smile and a shrug.</p><p>He says it so easily, Emyr thinks. Percy’s in love and he can just say it, no fear, no shame.</p><p>“I meant,” Emyr sighs and tries to think of how to put it, “I - I’m starting to think about some things from the Before, you know that, right?”</p><p>Percy tilts his head. “Mhmm, yeah I do.”</p><p>The grass is itchy on the back Emyr’s thighs, he shifts around a little and tries to ignore it. He’s got a suspicion that his brain is trying to distract him or something.</p><p>“Well some things are different than others,” Emyr explains slowly, “Like when I told Taylor I liked boys, she said she knew and that as long as I was happy things would be okay. But when I told Mother, I got yelled at and told that just because I was <em> pretending </em> to be a girl didn’t mean I <em> was </em> one and that boys were only allowed to like girls. Lisa and Faith were excited when I told them, but I’d figured it out <em> after </em> Rosetta was gone so she never got told.”</p><p>Percy hums and shifts position, leaning forward and looking in Emyr’s eyes. “Your mother’s homophobic?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Okay,” Percy says, still eyeing him closely, “Does it affect how you feel about Liam?”</p><p>Emyr stares back at Percy and wonders if he’d be comfortable telling this to someone else. Probably not, Percy is the least judgemental person Emyr has ever seen or met. And he’s uncomfortable right now, but he knows, profoundly, that he’s safe too.</p><p>“When I touched Liam…” Emyr drags a hand over his face, “When I see the way you and Kyle hold each other and kiss each other, I think about Liam. I think about kissing Liam. And when I think about that I get a feeling of… hurt. A feeling that I have to be ashamed, because Mother doesn’t like it when boys like boys or girls like girls. That me and Taylor and Lisa are sick for not liking the other gender, and that Faith was sick too for liking both boys and girls.”</p><p>Percy inhales sharply and closes his eyes. Emyr can see his jaw working, clenching and unclenching. He watches him silently, trying not to worry that he’s said that wrong thing. Liam says he needs to stop worrying all the time.</p><p>“Emyr,” Percy opens his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I’m so, so, so sorry.”</p><p>Confused, Emyr shakes his head. “For what?”</p><p>“You should never feel that,” Percy says firmly. “Your mother should never have made you feel that way. It’s- it’s wrong. And things aren’t like that anymore. Well, for some people they are. Life isn’t all rainbows and lollipops, some people are in the closet, some people aren’t safe. A lot. A lot of people aren’t safe. But, you are. You are safe to love anyone you want, gay, straight, or otherwise.”</p><p>The intensity of the way Percy’s speaking is a lot to handle. Coupled with what Percy’s talking about, it’s almost too much. Emyr takes a calming breath. He can still hear Tyler and Kyle messing around on the pitch and oddly it grounds him.</p><p>“I know that I’m gay,” Emyr says slowly. “But I just - I only feel like this about Liam.”</p><p>“And there’s nothing wrong with being gay. Me and Kyle are, Tyler is bi. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with not being straight.” Percy assures Emyr.</p><p>Yeah. Emyr knows. Him and Taylor and Lisa and Faith aren’t straight, they didn’t exclusively like the other gender like Rosetta had.</p><p>“So-” Emyr stops himself and breathes deeply, “So it’s okay. I’m okay.”</p><p>Percy smiles then, open and happy. “Yeah. You’re just fine Sani.”</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I don’t know why I let them talk me into physical activity,” Liam grumbles later as they make their way through the front door. “I’m going to be sore for days.”</p><p>Emyr can’t even imagine what his muscles will think of him come tomorrow. Maybe he’ll get lucky and get some kind of ‘free first time playing footie’ pass. That sounds like something a former spirit deserves.</p><p>“And I’m exhausted,” Liam continues, kicking his trainers off in the direction of the wall. “I’m dead on my feet.”</p><p>Emyr snorts at the expression. “Yeah me too.”</p><p>Liam starts walking towards the kitchen, nodding, and then stops abruptly. He spins and fixes Emyr with a narrow look. “Wait. Are you really?”</p><p>Emyr stops straightening Liam’s shoes to frown at him. “Am I what?”</p><p>“Tired,” Liam says, flapping his hand around. “You’re never tired.”</p><p>“Oh,” Emyr says, resuming the straightening and then toeing off his trainers as well. “Yeah, I am. Guess it didn’t dawn on me that it’s the first time in the After that I’ve been tired.”</p><p>Liam watches him for a second or two and then starts walking towards the kitchen again, Emyr follows.</p><p>Opening the fridge, Liam gazes inside contemplatively. “Did you discover something new about yourself today?”</p><p>Emyr freezes, remembering the conversation from earlier. It feels private, like a secret almost, but this is Liam, and keeping a secret from him feels wrong.</p><p>“Well,” Emyr starts, moving to sit at the kitchen table, “I had a talk with Percy.”</p><p>“Yeah, I saw.” Liam grabs an apple from the drawer and walks over to table. He rests his hip on the edge and looks down at Emyr with a cocked brow. “And?”</p><p>Emyr hesitates, watching Liam take a bite of the apple and then decides he might as well get it out. “We decided it’s okay that I’m gay.”</p><p>Liam chokes. He must inhale too sharply because with a strange croaking sound, he’s suddenly turning very red and grabbing at his throat. Emyr jumps out of his chair, scrambling towards him, but he gives a rough cough and the bit of apple flies onto the table.</p><p>Liam stares at it, chest heaving, “Jesus.”</p><p>Slowly, Emyr sits back down watching the redness lessen from Liam’s face. “You’re supposed to chew it.”</p><p>Liam rolls his eyes. “I did chew it. You’ve been eating for a week and you’re an expert?”</p><p>“Okay, fair enough.” Emyr puts up his hands in a sign of peace. “Maybe it’s a tricky apple.”</p><p>He clears his throat when he realises the way Liam’s not meeting his eye is purposeful.</p><p>“So,” he says, clearing his throat again. “So.”</p><p>Liam does look up then, looking far more tentative than Emyr would like. “So?”</p><p>“So, Percy told me I shouldn’t be ashamed just because Mother got mad because I liked boys and Taylor and Lisa liked girls and Faith liked both boys and girls and that it’s not as big a- a problem as it used to be,” Emyr says, glancing to the side. The words tumble out of his mouth too quickly and get a little twisted up. “He’s getting me pamphlets and stuff he said. But if it is- I mean for you. If it is for you- that’s not to say I’m assuming. But if it is, I’d like to know now, rather than later I suppose.”</p><p>Liam furrows his brow. “If what is what?”</p><p>This is the hardest conversation Emyr has had in his short experience with conversations, and it’s mostly due to the feeling of rejection that seems to be in the wings of his brain- ready to storm out onto centre stage.</p><p>“If it’s a problem,” Emyr clarifies. Kind of.</p><p>Liam is not as outwardly expressive as Kyle. Within the span of time it takes to get out one sentence, Kyle can change his expression dramatically about seven times. Liam’s displays of emotion are smaller, most of the time, and require a certain level of attention to catch them. Luckily, Emyr is quite literally always paying attention and he knows what every little microexpression means.</p><p>The way Liam’s eyebrow ticks up and his jaw clenches just slightly, spells out danger.</p><p>“If what is a problem?” Liam says slowly.</p><p>“Me,” Emyr says, feeling small and a little scared. “Me being- being gay.”</p><p>Emyr had expected anger, that’s what they’d been seemingly leading up to. So when hurt settles on Liam’s face, as clear as day, it throws him for such a loop he almost doesn’t catch Liam’s response.</p><p>“You think I’m homophobic,” Liam says lowly. “You think I have two best friends who are openly gay, and that I’m a homophobe?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Emyr blurts out. His throat suddenly burns with unshed tears and he has no idea why. “You- I don’t know! You choked on your apple!”</p><p>Liam looks at him like he’s a crazy person. “I’ll never eat another apple again. I will throw away every apple in the flat if it makes you think I care that you like dick. How could you think I would have a problem with that?”</p><p>“In case you’ve forgotten,” Emyr snaps, wiping at the stupid tears he can’t seem to keep in his stupid eyeballs, “I’ve never done this before- this, this telling a boy that might not like boys that I’m gay thing. So forgive me for being scared that the one person I care most about in the world other than my sisters would be upset about it.”</p><p>Liam’s face goes soft quicker than Emyr can process it, and he reaches across to yank Emyr into his lap. Emyr goes, sniffling just a little, and lets Liam press his head into the crook of his neck.</p><p>“I’m a dick,” Liam murmurs into his hair. “I’m sorry. This is a scary process and I fucked it up for you. I do care that you are gay, just not in a bad way. I support you, Emyr, I swear I do. Just like I support Kyle and Percy. And- and just so you know, I’m bi, so it would be incredibly fucked up for me not to.”</p><p>Emyr eases back a little and searches his face. “So you’re like Faith and Tyler.”</p><p>Liam smiles kindly.</p><p>“Come on,” He says lowly, patting Emyr on the arm. “I’m exhausted. I want a shower and my bed.”</p><p>Emyr agrees wholeheartedly with that sentiment. He lets Liam pull him up off the chair and only when he’s standing does he freeze, realisation dawning over him.</p><p>“Your bed…” He blinks and the furrows his brow. “I don’t have a bed. I- should I sleep on the sofa?”</p><p>Liam rolls his eyes. “I heard Tyler on the phone with Luke before we left, you can sleep in his bed. He’s not coming back tonight.”</p><p>Emyr nods, so thoroughly emotionally exhausted that the part of his brain that facilitates speech closes up shop and leaves a ‘gone for lunch’ sign in the window. His feet still seem to work though; they follow behind Liam all the way down the hall to the bathroom without so much as one conscious decision on Emyr’s part. Maybe his whole brain is slowly going on holiday, Emyr muses, one bit at a time.</p><p>Liam flicks on the light and waves Emyr in. Emyr leans against the sink and watches him get a towel out from under the sink and place it on the counter.</p><p>“You’re making your BBC news face,” Liam says, “Confused and a little panicked.”</p><p>“They shouldn’t put all the news on at one time,” Emyr mumbles. “It’s a lot to process.”</p><p>“Ah, it’s a processing face.” Liam nods and leans against the wall. “What are you processing right now?”</p><p>Emyr shrugs, going for nonchalant and probably failing miserably. “Percy called it a gay crisis, but I knew I was gay even in the Before.”</p><p>Liam nods and reaches into his back pocket. Pulling out his phone, he waves it around. “Lucky for you, young padawan, I know just the thing.”</p><p>With a few taps and a couple swipes, Liam pulls up his spotify app and music starts pouring into the room via the little speaker sat on the counter. It’s Beyoncé, one of her songs off an older album, Emyr remembers from his crash course. The soft notes are soothing and distracting enough that the panic settles just a bit.</p><p>“Now, just add warm water,” Liam says quietly, flipping on the shower, “And you’ve got yourself a calm boy.”</p><p>Emyr watches the steam billow off of the spray and thinks about the other time they’d been like this together. When Emyr was still floating but Liam had been very much solid. Solid and naked, dripping water like diamonds.</p><p>Liam tilts his head and takes a step towards him. “That’s a different face entirely.”</p><p>Emyr swallows. “Is it?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Liam nods. “Never seen you looking at anyone that way.”</p><p>There’s something in his tone, something in the words even. A hidden message that Emyr doesn’t understand but still leaves his knees feeling a bit shaky.</p><p>“Maybe I have a look just for you,” Emyr tries, swallowing thickly again. The music has shifted to something slower, darker. The room is getting hotter by the second. “I don’t know what look-”</p><p>“Don’t you?” Liam cuts across, firmly but quietly. He searches Emyr’s face and then gives him a small smile. “I like it. I like that it’s only for me. I want it to be only for me.”</p><p>Emyr blinks at the way Liam’s voice has gone deep and then nods. He can do just about nothing as he watches Liam nod back and then leave the room, pulling the door closed softly behind him with a click.</p><p>It takes him a moment to turn away from the door and start mindlessly stripping out of his clothes. He stands under the spray of the water and closes his eyes, letting the warmth relax muscles he realised he’d been holding stiffly, and others that were sorely abused from the game earlier. His brain seems to calm as well, or at least slow down a bit. He feels better by the time he rinses away the apple scented suds and towels off.</p><p>When he climbs into Tyler’s bed, wearing a pair of borrowed pajama bottoms, his last thought before falling to sleep is of Liam’s eyes, darker than usual and intent on his own.</p><p>
  <em> Lightning slashes through the sky and throws light through the room, startling the sleeping cat in Emyr’s lap into leaping down and racing out the door. Harsh gusts of wind stalk the house, howling angrily, and sending the shutters banging. Thunder follows, rumbling so deeply Emyr can feel it in his bones. His sisters are somewhere else, they always hide when it’s stormy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s not alone. There’s a woman standing next to the fireplace, his mother, her back straight, chin tipped up proudly. Emyr’s only just noticed her but he knows somehow she’s been there all along. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She says something, his mother. She doesn’t turn her head or look away from the flames, but Emyr knows it’s for him. He leans forward, trying to catch the words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We do not speak of such things,” Mother repeats lowly, voice filled with contempt and hate. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And Emyr knows. Emyr knows immediately what he’s being told. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We do not speak of such things,” Mother says again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We do not speak of such things.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Emyr shakes his head. Tries to answer her, can’t get his throat to work. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We do not speak of such things.” Lightning cracks across the sky again and Mother’s face is angry. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We do not speak of such things,” Mother hisses, and it would be less painful if she were beating him. </em>
</p><p>Emyr slams into consciousness with a deep gasp. Lightning slashes across the sky outside, illuminating the city line and the entire room. Shaking, he stares at his surroundings, trying to remember who he is, trying to remember where he is, trying to breathe.</p><p>“Emyr?” Liam. That’s Liam’s voice drifting in faintly from down the hall. He’s safe, he’s home.</p><p>“Emyr,” Liam calls again, a little louder this time. “You alright?”</p><p>Emyr’s heart slams against his chest. He throws the duvet back and scrambles out of the bed, rushing down the hall in the direction of Liam’s voice. Thunder rumbles loudly as he goes and rains smacks heavily against the windows.</p><p>Liams sat up in bed, rubbing at his eye sleepily. The duvet is pooled in his lap and his chest is bare. The sight of his skin illuminated by the street lamp and the lightning is almost enough to throw the feeling of dark oppression off Emyr.</p><p>“Did the storm wake you?” Liam narrows his eyes, trying to study Emyr’s face and figure out what’s going on, probably.</p><p>Emyr takes a few more steps into the room, stopping when his knees hit the bed, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. A memory of Mother being angry with me again.”</p><p>Liam makes a sad sound and pulls the duvet to the side. “Come on, then.”</p><p>Emyr just stares. A crack of thunder sounds outside and Emyr jumps, unsettled. Liam sighs. “Emyr, come on. You don’t have to sleep by yourself, get in.”</p><p>The bed is soft, Emyr knows. And warm. And contains Liam.</p><p>Emyr climbs in slowly, keeping his gaze carefully averted, and gives Liam his back. Liam pulls the duvet over them and after a second’s hesitation, wraps his arm around Emyr’s middle and pulls him close.</p><p>The comfort is instantaneous. Emyr sighs and relaxes back, taking a deep breath. Outside of Liam’s small window, Emyr can see the storm raging on. It looks pretty now, the way the sky is lit up in purples and blues and silvers. And it sounds musical almost, the way the rain beats a rhythm against the glass.</p><p>He feels safe, now, here in Liam’s arms.</p><p>“Better?” Liam mumbles, breath tickling at Emyr’s neck.</p><p>“Yeah,” Emyr says. “Better.”</p><p>And they sleep.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Emyr wakes up all at once and freezes. Jaw clenched tightly and breath coming quick he stares at the bedside table while his brain races to supplies him with memories from the night before. He’d had a bad memory of Mother, he remembers, and gotten into bed with Liam. That’s where he is, that’s whose arm is draped over his middle. His heart rate slows and his lungs start working like they’re supposed to, and he relaxes enough to observe his surroundings beyond the nightstand.</p><p>There’d been a storm the night before. Even if he didn’t remember the awful thunder, the few raindrops still clinging to the window pane would have reminded him. The bed is warm, particularly in the patches of sunshine that are streaming in through the window, and in the places where Liam’s body is pressed up against his- his arm around Emyr’s middle, his leg pressed against the angle of Emyr’s, his hips flush against Emyr’s arse.</p><p>And with that realisation, Emyr flies headfirst from curious contentment to absolute embarrassment. Because, despite the fact he’s been unconscious, his dick has obviously not been. It’s painfully hard, tenting the pajamas bottoms, and there’s a pool of wanting churning deep in his belly. Every inch of his body is begging him to press back into the cradle of Liam’s groin and rock his weight there. He doesn’t know how to handle this. He’s not even sure what it is that he’s supposed to be handling. Liam is the first boy Emyr’s known that has openly and almost publicly returned his affections. His mind is spinning as quickly as it can with half its blood supply pumped in the other direction. Panicked and just shy of faint, Emyr scrambles out of the bed as quietly as he can.</p><p>If he looks back, he’ll probably end up crawling straight back in the bed, so instead he tiptoes out the door and down the hall to the bathroom. He’s faced with a couple of issues, he realises as he stares at himself in the mirror. His skin is flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat, he’s got to wee but that's not gonna happen unless he plans on cleaning the ceiling, and of course, his dick has refused to go down.</p><p>He scrubs a hand over his face roughly and takes a deep breath. This is okay, this is fine. Every issue can be solved, he just has to start with one bit at a time. The flushed skin and sweat part seems like a good enough place to start, he muses, a shower is an easy fix. He quickly kicks off the pajama pants, flicks on the shower, and shoves his body under he spray.</p><p>And then he almost jumps right back out. “Jesus Christ!” he hisses.</p><p>In his rush he’d forgotten to let the water warm up and it’s ice cold raining down on him. He gasps and slides as far back as he can, trying to get away from the spray. Wiping water from his eyes he glances down and stills. Well, that's two problems solved in one go then. Apparently, cold showers are erection killers.</p><p>Good to know.</p><p>“Okay,” he mumbles to himself, soaping up his body briskly. “This is fine.”</p><p>He’s done with his shower before the water has fully warmed up, restless as he is. Penis facing downward once again, he actually gets to pee and then leaves the bathroom for Tyler’s room. He rummages through the drawers, finding a tshirt and a pair of joggers that cover him just about well enough even if the joggers are too long.</p><p>Liam is still sleeping when Emyr emerges fully dressed, which is okay because even erectionless he feels ready to jump out of his skin, and he doesn’t know that he’d be able to hide that. He paces the living room by the windows for a few moments, gnawing at his fingernails. Then, just before he's worn a rut into the floor, something on the pavement below catches his eye.</p><p>There’s a pair of men jogging together in bright colors. Emyr tilts his head and opens the window. He can hear them laughing together, chatting happily, and the smack smack smack of their trainers on the pavement.</p><p>Suddenly, he knows that’s what he needs: he needs to get out of the flat, he needs to get down to the pavement, and he needs to run. Moving as quickly as he can, he shoves on the trainers he’d worn to play footie, scribbles a quick note for Liam, and flies down the hall, down the steps, and out the front door.</p><p>With the first stride, Emyr’s entire body relaxes. His lungs, expanding and filling with air, feel like breaking free from chains. His heart pumping feels like being brought back to life. His brain settles as he hits his stride, the contents shifting from a jumbled mess to neat little piles perfect for sifting and organising. In his mind's eye, he works through the piles to the steady beat of his feet hitting the pavement.</p><p>The nightmare last night had been awful. He doesn’t have any frame of reference but he knows the general idea. Kids get nightmares about scary clowns and monsters under their beds, adults have nightmares about awful bosses and missed deadlines. Apparently, Emyr has nightmares about his mother telling him he’s not to speak about being gay. Well, he’s sure it’s his mother, since he felt that familiar inkling just like he had when he’d drawn his sisters, only it had been <em> bad </em> familiarity instead of safe and good familiarity. It’s no wonder he’s not drawn her though, Emyr thinks, just the thought of Mother now is setting his stomach back in knots. She may have given birth to Emyr but that's all that connects them. Emyr and his sisters all took after their father more.</p><p>Emyr senses motion to his right and when he refocuses he realises he’s at an intersection. Breathing heavily, he pauses, watching a car stop. The driver nods in his direction and then rolls ahead, splashing through puddles left on the road by last nights storm.</p><p>Breathing heavily, Emyr checks for more cars and, seeing none, picks up a jog again. He crosses the street, minding the puddles, and hits the pavement on the other side just as his brain slides back into retrospective mode.</p><p>Liam had made it better last night- the bad memory, the fear, it all disappeared in Liam’s bed. And Emyr’s not stupid, even if he has been a bit in denial. All the boys make him feel safe, all the boys make him feel comfortable and accepted. But, it’s different with Liam. Everything is different with Liam. Liam makes him feel whole.</p><p>The only problem is, well not the only problem: he’s a newly corporeal man from decades ago living with a bunch of idiots, he’s got no shortage of problems- the main problem is deciding what to do with the knowledge that he is mostly likely head over heels in love with his friend.</p><p>Emyr rounds a corner and spots the two men from earlier. He slows his pace a little, watching them order iced coffee from the little shop that Kyle likes. The man on the right, is bouncing a little on his toes, smiling probably, Emyr thinks, despite the fact that he can only see the back of his head and a design shaved into his hair. The vendor leans out of the window with the second coffee and the man on the left takes it, turning towards his friend. He stands on tiptoe and presses a quick kiss to the taller man’s lips, more smile than anything, and Emyr’s body stops working altogether and he nearly falls on his face.</p><p>Stood on the corner, blinking and probably looking like a fool, he watches them tangle their hands together and stroll away with their coffees. And suddenly he imagines he and Liam like that, happy and kissing. Walking together, holding hands.</p><p>Loving Liam isn’t one of his problems, Emyr realises with a slow smile, loving Liam is the answer to every question that matters.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>After his run, Emyr is sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wants to court Liam. Courting he remembers from the Before, even though boys courting boys and girls courting girls had been heavily frowned upon. What he is not sure of though, is how courting happens in this new world he’s been thrust into. So he does what he always does when he’s got a problem that needs solving: he calls the boys.</p><p>“So,” Kyle says in his tone of voice that he uses when he’s supposed to be taking things seriously and he’s actively taking the piss, “Why have we been called to this meeting today?”</p><p>“It’s not a meeting,” Tyler says, his voice kind of muffled by the way he's laying flat on the couch. “There’s no one taking notes.”</p><p>“Not all meetings require note taking,” Percy points out, dropping into Kyle’ lap. “Where’s Liam?”</p><p>“He’s got cla-” Emyr tries.</p><p>“Right, you are Perseus,” Kyle says, “Only important meetings require notes. Is this not an important meeting then, Emyr? Have you called me up and rushed me over here for nothing? I was minutes away from doing something very important, you know.”</p><p>Emyr, sat across from them with crossed arms and waning patience, rolls his eyes. “This is not a meeting and you were not.”</p><p>Percy shifts around and stares at Emyr in the eye, cocking a brow. “He very much was.”</p><p>Tyler snorts.</p><p>“Do you two always have to be so vulgar?” Emyr wonders.</p><p>“Yes,” Kyle props his chin on Percy’s shoulder, “It’s my signature move.”</p><p>Percy turns to him and smiles slowly. “Well, that and-”</p><p>“Please do not say anymore words at all,” Emyr shouts, practically jumping out of his chair. “None. No more words. Please don’t finish that sentence.”</p><p>Tyler finally sits up, kicking at Kyle a little for seemingly no reason, and hauling the pillow into his lap. “Okay, really. What’s going on?”</p><p>In a moment of panic, Emyr almost wants to let Percy finish his sure to be disgusting sentence. Almost.</p><p>He takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. “I’ve decided to court Liam.”</p><p>Tyler groans. Percy nods. Kyle looks like he’s just been given twelve days of Christmas gifts in one go.</p><p>“This is so romantic.” Kyle shoves at Tyler, who gives him a thoroughly offended look, and scoots forward right to the edge of the sofa. “What is your plan. Do you have a plan?”</p><p>“Well,” Emyr starts, “Not so much. It’s more of a general-”</p><p>“He’s got nothing,” Tyler interjects. “Zilch, nada, aucun.”</p><p>Kyle turns a little to bat his eyelashes sarcastically in Tyler’s direction. “You’re so good with languages.”</p><p>Percy shrugs at Emyr. “That's as good a place to start as any-”</p><p>“It’s the perfect place to start,” Kyle says, cutting across Tyler and bouncing a little in his seat. “We’re going to need to do some brainstorming. Oh! Is that why we’re here? It is, isn’t it? You called us so we could help you come up with a plan. Oh my god, Emyr! Do you even know what that means?”</p><p>Emyr, a little frightened by the way Kyle’s voice keeps climbing octaves, shakes his head slowly. “No, I’m afraid I don’t-”</p><p>“It means you trust us.” To Emyr’s horror, Kyle’s voice cracks and he spins to Percy, wordlessly looking for comfort.</p><p>Percy wraps his arms around him immediately and gives Emyr a dirty look. “Nice, Emyr. Good job.”</p><p>Tyler sucks his teeth and leans back against the sofa cushion, crossing his ankle over his knee. “Kyle cried this morning about a piggy bank in an advert, don’t listen to Percy. We’ll help you mate. The four of us together just about make one functioning brain.”</p><p>Kyle sniffles and looks up from Percy’s shoulder. “This is going to be the most amazing courting ever.”</p><p>“I hope so,” Emyr says, sighing a little shakily. “Liam is pretty amazing.”</p><p>With a wail, Kyle starts crying all over again, but Percy looks impressed instead of irritated. That’s probably a good sign, Emyr thinks while he watches Tyler get a pen and paper.</p><p>“Alright,” Tyler says once he’s sat back down. “Let’s get started.”</p><p>And just like that, it begins.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tyler, for as put out as he seems about the idea, comes up with what is probably one of the most important parts of the whole situation.</p><p>“Alright Emyr, this is Debenhams,” Tyler says with a firm shove to the middle of his back. “In you get, we don’t have all day. Some of us already have boyfriends to tend to in case you've forgotten.”</p><p>“I’m going to tell Luke you talk about him like he’s a baby,” Emyr grumbles, raking his eyes over the seemingly endless amount of clothes surrounding them.</p><p>“Go ahead,” Tyler says breezily. “He likes it. He is my baby. Are you done being incredibly intrusive about our sex life now? Only I’d like to pick out some clothes for your date-”</p><p>“I’ll go home,” Emyr warns, face completely red.</p><p>Tyler holds up his hands. “Alright, alright. Still a little touchy about the dick talk stuff. Won’t happen again, I swear. Just clothes.”</p><p>Emyr narrows his eyes. “Just clothes?”</p><p>“Scouts honour.”</p><p>“You were never a boy scout.”</p><p>Tyler sucks his teeth, “The sentiment is the same. I’m sorry, alright. I’ll behave.”</p><p>Emyr studies him for a moment and then relents. It’s not like he’s got many options here, he really does need clothes of his own. “Alright, but no dirty talk, Ty. I’m serious.”</p><p>Tyler mimes zipping his lips and tucking a key in his back pocket, and then spins on his heel and starts marching towards the back of the shop. Emyr hurries to catch up; Tyler is a good bit taller than him (not that Emyr would ever say that out loud) and he tends to walk like he’s got a very important meeting to attend in five minutes, at a location half an hour away.</p><p>“So, do you have a plan here?”</p><p>Tyler glances back at him and gives him a hard look. “Of course I have a plan.”</p><p>They reach the back of the shop and Emyr tries very hard not to gulp at the rows and rows of folded fabric. Everything is marked with numbers that mean nothing to him and words that are just as foreign. Luckily, Tyler seems to be in his element.</p><p>“Alright,” he says firmly, pulling down a pair of dark blue trousers from a shelf and unfolding them with a snap, “You’ll be pretty easy to find a fit for, you’re mostly proportionate and your legs aren’t long. These should be just about the right size.”</p><p>Emyr takes them from him and furrows his brow. “What do you mean proportionate?”</p><p>Tyler doesn’t look up from his hunt for more pairs, but he does sigh. “Well, some of us have small waists and big, big bums Emyr. It makes it quite difficult to get things to fit properly without having them taken in.”</p><p>“You mean Kyle.”</p><p>Tyler tosses four more pairs over Emyr’s head and starts walking in the other direction. “Obviously.”</p><p>Emyr follows him and then only grumbles a very little bit when Tyler shoves him into a dressing room stall and orders him to try everything on.</p><p>“So,” Tyler says a moment later while Emyr is trying to shove his foot into too tight trousers, “What about you? Do you have a plan?”</p><p>“I thought the plan was to not tell me the plan.”</p><p>Tyler sighs so thoroughly Emyr thinks he might feel it on the other side of the door. “I meant a plan for taking Liam on a walk through the park, Emyr.”</p><p>Emyr finally gets his feet in and starts hopping up and down trying to get the trousers up to his hips. “Well, no. Do I need one?”</p><p>It takes a little yanking but he’s able to get the snap done up. He gives the mirror a dubious glance and then swings open the door. “Are these supposed to fit like this?”</p><p>Tyler regards him for a handful of seconds with pursed lips. “Yes. No. Yes.”</p><p>Emyr blinks. “I don’t follow.”</p><p>Taking him by the shoulders, Tyler spins him around and shoves him back in the dressing room. “Yes, those are supposed to fit that way. No, you aren’t going to buy them. Yes, you need a plan. Flowers, of course.”</p><p>Emyr is suddenly exhausted. “Flowers? For my trousers?”</p><p>Tyler rolls his eyes and tosses Emyr the next pair to try on. “No, dickhead. Flowers for Liam.”</p><p>Emyr stares down at the trousers in his hands and shrugs, he might as well trust Tyler, he did get Luke after all.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Emyr gets back, arms full of flowers and shopping bags, Tyler is gone to be with his own boyfriend and the flat is quiet. </p><p>Not a lot about Liam is fair, Emyr thinks. Not the way his shirt rides up and exposes his abs when he paints on the ceiling. Not the way his scent, dark chocolate and cinnamon and gingersnaps and jasmine tea, lingers after him from room to room. Not the way his hair seems to glow in sunshine and gives hi a halo. Certainly not the way he looks now, sleep ruffled and soft, padding around the kitchen after his nap, making a cuppa.</p><p>He glances up briefly smiles when he hears the front door close. “Hey, love. How was shopping?”</p><p>“It went well.” Emyr deposits the bags onto the sofa and heads towards the kitchen, trying not to nervously crinkle the cellophane wrapped around the flower stems. “I, um, have something for you.”</p><p>Liam turns from the sink with a surprised look and he spots the flowers. He smiles broadly and reaches for them. “Oh yeah, no doubt you were with Tyler.”</p><p>Emyr hands them over and shuffles his feet a bit. “Tyler likes flowers, then?”</p><p>Liam strokes one of the roses gently with just the tip of his finger. “Yup. Me too though. Thank you, this was sweet.”</p><p>He leans up and plants a quick kiss on Emyr’s cheek and then turns to look in the bottom cabinets for something.</p><p>Emyr takes some slow breaths and swallows. It’s actually a little easier to do this with Liam digging around in the cabinet, making a racket and not watching him. “I wanted to ask you something.”</p><p>“Hmmm?”</p><p>“Do you want to go on a walk with me?” Emyr wants to slam his head into the counter. That is very much not the script he’d practiced all the way home.</p><p>Liam finds what he’s looking for, a vase apparently, and goes to the sink. He starts filling it and looks over his shoulder. “Sure?”</p><p>Emyr is sweating in places he didn’t even know could sweat. “No actually… No actually I meant a walk through the gardens in the park.”</p><p>Liam, at the counter, stops in the middle of unwrapping the flowers. “The gardens. The ones in the park?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“On a date?”</p><p>Emyr pauses. The thing is, he’s still fairly new at reading social situations and, even though this Liam, he still thinks he’s about twenty five seconds away from laughing loudly and proclaiming this all a joke. “Uh.”</p><p>Liam blinks prettily, which is something he probably can’t help but do, Emyr muses, not with mile long eyelashes like that. “I would like it to be a date, Emyr.”</p><p>“You would?”</p><p>Liam nods slowly, giving Emyr a tiny smirk. “Yes. Would you?”</p><p>“Well - I,” Emyr fumbles and gestures towards the counter, “I got you flowers.”</p><p>Liam’s smile spreads, showing off his dimples and crinkling the edges of his eyes in a way that makes Emyr want to kiss him. “Yeah you did. I’ll take that as a yes.”</p><p>Emyr has no idea where to go from there or what to say so he just - doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word or do a thing. He stands in the kitchen, watching Liam trim the ends of the flowers and put them in the vase. All the while, his heart rate starts picking up and his chest starts feeling tight.</p><p>He doesn’t know how to court someone properly; he doesn’t know how to court Liam. He doesn't even know how dates work. He doesn’t know how any of this works. This was all just a big mistake, he realises, he’s got to find a way out of this mess before he ends up disappointing Liam and embarrassing himself.</p><p>Liam sets the vase on the window sill over the sink and turns back. The second he lays eyes on Emyr, his expression shifts, and Emyr knows he can tell exactly what's going on in his head.</p><p>He closes the distance between them in three quick strides and cradles Emyr’s face gently. “Hey, breathe for me, Em. It’s just me. It's just you and me here and nothing is wrong.”</p><p>Emyr takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes - lets Liam’s voice wash over him.</p><p>“I want to spend time with you. You can do this, and I won’t leave your side for even a second. I’ve got you, okay?”</p><p>Emyr nods and slowly opens his eyes. “Okay.”</p><p>“Come here,” Liam pulls him forward against his chest and holds him tightly.</p><p>Emyr sinks into the embrace and lets himself be rocked. They stand that way, leaning against one another and just being until Emyr’s heart settles.</p><p>The window above the sink is still propped open a bit, and the air that is sneaking through is crisp and cold. There’s a faint smell of something yellow in the air, from Tyler no doubt, and it clashes with the flowers. The fridge is on its last leg, and it starts an awful humming noise like it often does.</p><p>And wrapped up in Liam’s arms, try as he might, Emyr can’t think of a single place he rather be.</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The park is colder than Emyr expected. Colder and bigger. He stares around at the pretty flowers lining the sidewalks on the way to the large greenhouses with the prettier plants that need to be protected.</p><p>“Is it usually this empty?” Emyr asks, whispering instinctively and eyeing all the empty space of the park where people usually are.</p><p>Liam nods. “At this time, yeah. It’s starting to get cold, and not many people like the cold.”</p><p>Emyr takes a seat on a bench, keeping his arm pressed up against Liam’s as the wavy-haired boy sat next to him, but Emyr folded his feet under himself.</p><p>Liam glances over, taking in the way he’s positioned and snorts. “Typical.”</p><p>Emyr tilts his head, squinting a little to try and make out what Liam means. “Typical what?”</p><p>Liam nudges his chin towards Emyr. “Gays can’t sit right. It’s a right of passage. You never have your feet on the floor.”</p><p>Emyr frowns. “Is that bad?”</p><p>“No,” Liam says immediately. “Nothing about you is bad, babes.”</p><p>Emyr is saved from having to respond to that in any way that isn’t “you are perfect and I love you” by the appearance of a man and a woman on the path. Emyr watches them walk together, having some sort of whispered conversation. They sit down just a few benches down from Emyr and Liam and continue their hushed conversation.</p><p>They start pawing at each other in under two minutes.</p><p>Emyr tries to pay attention to the flowers. The different types are interesting, probably, it’s beautiful at the very least. But, between the couple kissing without letting up for air and the way the light glows against Liam’s tan skin and makes his hair glow like he has a halo, Emyr is stuck between a rock and a hard place. A very hard, pressing up against his flies, incredibly uncomfortable hard place.</p><p>He feels a little guilty about how relieved he is when it’s over and the couple leave the park. He wants to gulp in the cold air like a fish thrown back to sea. He wants to go to the authorities and have that couple arrested for awful behavior.</p><p>He settles for an ice cream cone and a walk back to the flat the long way around.</p><p>“Awfully quiet over there, ghost boy.”</p><p>Emyr rolls his eyes and bumps him with his shoulder. “Just thinking.”</p><p>“Mhmm, about anything in particular or everything at once?”</p><p>“Something in particular.”</p><p>They walk in silence for a couple blocks. Liam occasionally bumps their shoulders together, like he’s reminding Emyr he’s there, and keeps up a steady, soft hum.</p><p>“Are you going to tell me?” Liam asks eventually. “Or do you want me to try and read your mind?”</p><p>Emyr gets enough of that from Luke. “I was just… Well you know that couple that was a few benches down from us?”</p><p>Liam hums in acknowledgment but makes no other attempt at communication, leaving Emyr to actually voice what’s in his head even though he’d really rather not.</p><p>He clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m not sure why they were in the park if they were planning on doing… doing that the entire time.”</p><p>Liam’s smirking at him, Emyr can tell from the corner of his eye. But he's not going to turn to confirm it, because he's too embarrassed aout admitting he’d seen the couple.</p><p>“Doing that?” Liam asks. “Snogging you mean?”</p><p>Emyr genuinely hopes Liam is watching where they are going because there is no way he’s peeling his eyes up from the pavement any time soon.</p><p>“Yeah, that's what I mean.”</p><p>“It’s kind of just what’s done,” Liam says, shrugging. “Cold air, warm clothes, close proximity. Pretty perfect conditions aren’t they?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t really know,” Emyr says, trying to keep his voice light. He might not do such a great job, or maybe his body language gives him away, because suddenly Liam is right up next to him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as they walk.</p><p>Emyr doesn’t know how Liam knows it will settle his nerves, but it works every time.</p><p>“I forget sometimes,” Liam murmurs. “You’re always so brave and happy. Ready to take on the world. Sometimes, I forget there are so many things you’ve not experienced yet.”</p><p>Emyr’s heart sinks. It’s not that he’s unaware of all the thing he’s missed out on- all the things that make him strange and different, it’s just not so fun being reminded.</p><p>“It’s an amazing gift for me, you know,” Liam continues.</p><p>Emyr glances at him, confused. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Liam slides his hand a little lower, kneading at the muscles of Emyr’s neck. “I mean, I get to see you live life for the first time. I guess everything looks so much more interesting when I get to see it from your perspective.”</p><p>They come up to the intersection by the flat and Emyr stops, sighing. “I don’t think there’s anything interesting about never being kissed in this After, Li.”</p><p>Liam cradles the back of Emyr’s neck firmly and spins him around, pulling him almost flush to his body. “And what about a first kiss?”</p><p>Emyr stares at him for a second, thrown for a loop, and then he understands. And immediately after, his knees threaten to give out. “What?”</p><p>“I hardly remember mine,” Liam continues softly. His breath ghost across Emyr’s lips. “That’s a shame isn’t it? A first kiss should be memorable. It should be interesting.”</p><p>Emyr can’t keep his eyes of Liam’s lips. “Yes. I guess. Should it?”</p><p>“Mhmm.” Liam brushes the tip of his nose against Emyr’s, startling a gasp from him. “I think so.”</p><p>“Oh, well if you think…” Emyr agrees breathily, closing his eyes and losing focus a little. Overwhelmed. “If- If you-”</p><p>“Can I kiss you, Emyr?” Liam asks, gently winding his fingers through Emyr’s hair again. “Can I be your first kiss?”</p><p>Emyr doesn’t want to ruin the moment and tell Liam that actually, George had been his first kiss in the Before, but this was his After so maybe it didn’t count that he and George had kissed when Emyr had been in the Before with his angry mother telling him he wasn’t allowed to like boys.</p><p>A whispered yes barely makes it past his lips before Liam is pressing into them. He kisses like he does everything. Gentle. Firm. And then he tilts Emyr’s head just so and suddenly Emyr feels like the world has become just Liam and him in the cold kissing.</p><p>Emyr whimpers and is rewarded with a soft sigh and the press of Liam’s tongue. First gently sweeping across his bottom lip and then dancing alongside his. Taking. Every one of Emyr’s senses clicks into overload and suddenly it's like Liam is everywhere- surrounding him totally.</p><p>His smell, his touch, his heat, his soft sounds. His taste.</p><p>When they separate, Liam leaning back just a bit, Emyr sways on his feet.</p><p>“I think,” Emyr whispers, forcing his eyes to slowly open. “I think I’ll need another go if you really want me to remember.”</p><p>Liam barks out a laugh, startlingly loud in their quiet little bubble and gives him the warmest look Emyr has ever seen from the pretty blue-eyed boy. “If you’re a very good boy, I will see what can be done.”</p><p>Emyr’s heart stutters. “I can be good.”</p><p>Liam’s eyes go from warm sky blue to dark and he leans forward, but he doesn’t kiss Emyr again. He sweeps his thumb over Emyr’s bottom lip, and searches his face. He meets his eye again with a clench of his jaw. “I hope so.”</p><p>The walk home is quiet save for the sounds of their trainers on the pavement and Emyr’s heart pounding in his chest. It’s not a scary kind of energy. Just a little overwhelmed. His body trying to cope with things he’s never been even close to coping with, even in the Before when he and George had kissed and he’d learned what it meant to be full of someone else. Liam knows, of course, Emyr can tell by the way he squeezes his hand the whole way back. By the way he starts playing in his hair again.</p><p>It doesn’t settle, Emyr doesn’t settle, until he’s in soft joggers and tucked under Liam’s blankets with his arm draped over his middle.</p><p>And then everything is calm again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The morning after the park and Emyr’s first kiss in the After is also the twelfth morning he’s woken up in Liam’s bed and the twelth time he’s snuck out from under the covers to take a cold shower. He’s fairly confident about it by now.</p><p>He doesn’t even make it an inch this time.</p><p>“Where do you go?” Liam mumbles in his ear, voice thick with sleep.</p><p>Emyr stills and closes his eyes, willing Liam to lay still and remain unaware of Emyr’s predicament. “When?”</p><p>Liam shifts, draping his leg over Emyr’s thigh and getting incredibly close to Emyr’s dick. “When you leave in the morning, where do you go?”</p><p>Emyr swallows. “Running. You know that.”</p><p>There's a rustle, the duvet shifting, and Liam’s closer, nuzzling into Emyr’s neck like he’s done it a thousand times before. When in actuality, this is brand new torture for Emyr and he’s not handling it very well.</p><p>“I can hear the front door,” Liam says, seemingly oblivious to Emyr’s mounting distress. “You don’t leave for like half an hour after you get out of bed.”</p><p>“I take a shower,” Emyr admits, for lack of a better excuse or any excuse at all really.</p><p>Liam stops moving and Emyr knows without looking over that he’s watching him. “You take a shower before you go running?”</p><p>This conversation is quickly going where Emyr would really rather it didn’t. “...Yes.”</p><p>There’s a few beats of silence, during which Emyr starts to hope that by some miracle Liam has fallen back asleep, and then. “Emyr.”</p><p>Emyr keeps his eyes firmly locked on the ceiling. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Will you look at me please?”</p><p>“No, thank you.”</p><p>Liam snorts. “Emyr.”</p><p>Emyr sighs and gives in and meets Liam’s gaze, “Liam.”</p><p>Liam’s face is sleep soft and open. He tilts his chin down and looks up through his lashes that were straight unlike Emyr’s.</p><p>Emyr narrows his eyes and waits.</p><p>“Why do you take a shower, Emyr?”</p><p>And Emyr knows. Emyr knows that Liam is using that soft voice, and that look through his lashes to get what he wants. He knows, so it shouldn’t work.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>“To get rid of this,” Emyr growls. He throws back the duvet as all the frustration and embarrassment of the last two weeks bubbles up to the surface. He gestures to his lap, where his joggers are tented. “That. That is why. Okay?!”</p><p>Liam stares for several seconds, blinking, and then mumbles, “Get rid of it?”</p><p>Emyr throws his head back and stares at the ceiling, trying to ignore the throbbing and the way his cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “Yeah. It- a cold shower helps.”</p><p>“A cold shower,” Liam repeats, voice amused. Emyr can feel his eyes on his face again. “So you’re not- I thought you were jerking off?”</p><p>Emyr furrows his brow. “I don’t know what that term means.”</p><p>“Is the ceiling really that interesting?” Liam asks with a sigh.</p><p>“Yes,” Emyr grumbles. “It never asks me uncomfortable questions. We have a very close friendship, it and I.”</p><p>Liam laughs and the bed shakes just a bit, which only reminds Emyr that his dick is still very much hard and very much in need of attention. He tries not to shift.</p><p>“Jerking off,” Liam explains, “is slang for masturbating. That’s the usual plan of action when one wakes up with a hard dick. You get a hand on yourself.”</p><p>Emyr turns his head sharply. “I don’t. That’s not- I don’t do that. I haven’t been - Jesus you think I’ve been sneaking off to do that.”</p><p>Liam rakes his eyes over the scandalized expression on Emyr’s face and his eyebrows shoot up. His mouth twitches a little like he’s trying to stop himself from smiling and doesn’t want Emyr to see.</p><p>“Don’t laugh at me,” Emyr grouses, barely resisting a pout. “I’m new here in case you’ve forgotten.”</p><p>Liam’s face shifts again, soft and sweet and he brings up his hand to gently thumb at Emyr’s jaw, dragging it over the stubble there. “Hey, I know that. I’d never forget anything about you babe. I’m not laughing at you.”</p><p>“You’re smiling,” Emyr points out, still grumpy.</p><p>“I’m happy.”</p><p>Emyr tsks. “Wonderful. Can I go take care of this now?”</p><p>Liam’s hand stills and then he lifts it slowly, deliberately, and places it flat on Emyr’s chest. “Why don’t you let me help you instead.”</p><p>It’s really a shame that Emyr has been in this conscious After for so little time and already Liam is actively trying to give him a heart attack.</p><p>“You want to - what?” Emyr chokes a little, shakes his head. “You want to touch me?”</p><p>“I always want to touch you.”</p><p>Emyr’s mouth is suddenly very dry. “There? You want to touch me there?”</p><p>“Your dick? God yes.” Liam looks fierce, hungry, hot. “Everywhere. Always.”</p><p>Emyr's hips jerk up on their own accord and his breath catches. It’s hard to think when he’s like this- when he’s hard. More difficult still when he’s pressed up against Liam like this - his voice in his ear, his smell on his skin, the memory of his lips still tingling on Emyr’s. God.</p><p>“Yes,” Emyr rushes out, looking away. “Yes. Liam. Yes.”</p><p>Liam stills. “Yes?”</p><p>Emyr snaps his eyes back to his. “Please.”</p><p>With a groan, Liam scrambles up and yanks at Emyr’s joggers, making him hiss at the rough contact of the material being dragged over the head of his dick.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Liam whispers, sounding awed, “Look at you.”</p><p>Emyr looks, because Liam said so, and whines at the way his dick is nearly red with how flushed it is, curved up towards his belly and leaking.</p><p>“Shh,” Liam murmurs, sliding his fingers through the soft curly hairs at the base, making Emyr’s dick jump and Emyr nearly pass out. “Don’t worry, babe. I got you.”</p><p>Emyr’s back bows off the bed at the feeling of Liam’s hand wrapped around his dick.</p><p>“Jesus,” Emyr gasps loudly as his eyes roll back in his head.</p><p>He thinks Liam chuckles, but he can’t hear him properly over the rushing in his ears.</p><p>Liam shoves him back down flat with his other palm flat on his stomach and holds him there. “That’s it. Just feel it. Let go, I’ve got you.”</p><p>That. That Emyr can hear. And Liam keeps talking, while his hand slides over Emyr’s dick, a little roughly until Liam leans forward and spits on the head.</p><p>Emyr’s whole body writhes at that, but Liam holds him steady. “That’s it, doing so well for me.”</p><p>Something hot churns in Emyr’s belly and his toes curl. He panics for second, knowing something is happening and not sure what, it’s been too long since he’s been like <em> this </em> with someone. “Liam?”</p><p>Liam’s hand moves faster, popping up over the head of Emyr’s dick over and over and-</p><p>“Let go baby,” Liam whispers, directly in Emyr’s ear. “Be a good boy for me and let me have it.”</p><p>With a shout, Emyr comes. His mind whites out for a second, an eternity, he has no idea. He blinks his eyes open, trembling.</p><p>Liam smiles down at him, licking his hand.</p><p>“I-” Emyr shakes his head. “God.”</p><p>“You can just call me Liam.”</p><p>He shifts, leaning back against the headboard and Emyr’s eyes fall on his lap. He’s hard, visible and obvious in his basketball shorts. Emyr traces his eyes over the bulge and sits up.</p><p>Liam watches him curiously, still licking come of his hand like it’s candy.</p><p>“Teach me?”</p><p>Liam smiles darkly and drags him down for a kiss. “My pleasure.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Percy gives Emyr the details of his contribution to Project Court Liam (Kyle is having pins made) while on a morning jog with Emyr. He explains that the true way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and after clearing up the confusion that statement creates, he starts talking Emyr through the concept of homemade chimichangas and candlelit dinners.</p><p>The chimichangas go over well. The candles go over very well. But the homemade prinzregententorte cake leads to Emyr being shoved onto the bed and being enthusiastically reintroduced to the art of fellatio, so he supposes that goes over the best.</p><p>Several minutes later, Emyr blinks up at the ceiling. It’s just about the only thing he can manage to do while swimming around in his orgasm haze. Well, he is breathing, he notes, albeit pretty rapidly. He’s outrageously hot, draped in bliss-heavy Liam and twisted up bed sheets.</p><p>“I was thinking,” he announces, blinking at how deep his voice sounds. That’s new.</p><p>Liam doesn’t move from his head from where it’s in pressed firmly into the space beneath Emyr’s jaw. “Just now? I must not have been doing it right, then.”</p><p>Emyr’s face heats. Liam’s lips moving against his skin have his dick twitching in a way that means it would really like to show him exactly how right he’d been doing it.</p><p>“No,” Emyr says, smiling to himself, “That was- yeah, no, my brain was not functioning at all during that.”</p><p>Liam snorts. “Good. So before the mind blowing sex, is what you mean?”</p><p>Emyr’s never felt like this during or after sex in the Before, and he’s never heard that term, but his brain does feel significantly… Blown, so he goes with it. “Yes, before. Before, well before I was thinking.”</p><p>“Do I need to take you to a doctor or something,” Liam mumbles.</p><p>Emyr sighs. “No. Okay. I was thinking that maybe I’d like to go to classes too.”</p><p>Liam does shift then. He leaves most of his body still draped over Emyr’s, much to Emyr’s relief, but slides his shoulders back a bit. Emyr tilts his head to the side and meets his sky-coloured gaze. Liam watches him carefully.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Emyr nods minutely, “Yeah. I have no idea what kind. But, I want to learn and I want it to be something I care about. That’s one of the memories that I keep having. I keep feeling like I was working so hard to reach a goal I didn’t even really want. I want to be like you, and Kyle, and Percy and Tyler. I want to find something I love and spend every day learning about it.”</p><p>Liam keeps watching him with a carefully neutral expression and doesn’t say anything at all. What could he possibly say, Emyr wonders, this is all such an impossible idea anyway.</p><p>Emyr sighs. “Am I an idiot? Am I some kind of idiot with his head in the clouds?”</p><p>Liam gives him a soft smile and shakes his head. “No,” he says gently, dragging his fingers across Emyr’s cheek. “I’d never use those kinds of words to describe you.”</p><p>“What words then?”</p><p>Liam slides his hand back to the nape of Emyr’s neck and tugs him forward. His kiss is firm but gentle, steady and sure. Intoxicating. Emyr sighs into it, spine melting.</p><p>Liam pulls back, just a centimetre. “Smart. Handsome,” he presses another kiss to Emyr’s lips and whispers, “Brave.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>At first glance, one would think the most tactile person of the bunch would be Tyler. He’s forever climbing into someone’s lap, always stealing a hug from some unsuspecting victim. Or maybe Percy. Percy is pretty cuddly too, especially with Kyle. So it would probably be a toss up if a stranger were to be asked, but Emyr knows it’s neither of them.</p><p>The actual serial cuddler is Kyle.</p><p>“Emyr,” Kyle coos from his position in Emyr’s lap, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other around his middle, “I’m going to ask you something and you’ve got to say yes.”</p><p>Emyr frowns. “Then why are you asking me?”</p><p>“Because that’s what people do,” Kyle says with a shrug.</p><p>“Okay,” Emyr says, because what else is there to say, really. “What is the question?”</p><p>Kyle shifts, Emyr thinks he’s getting up, but he just changes his position and settles again. “It’s not a question, it’s more of an invitation.”</p><p>“That I have to accept.”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>Emyr sighs. This always happens when Liam is in class. One of the boys ropes him into some nonsense because he’s not sure how to say no. He’s starting to think they do it on purpose.</p><p>“Well, what is it?”</p><p>Kyle leans back and smiles. “Pub night.”</p><p>Definitely on purpose.</p><p>“What would that entail exactly?” Emyr asks slowly.</p><p>“Well, a pub for one,” Kyle says, cheeky and proud of himself for it. “Plus all four of the rest of us. And beer. And bad food.”</p><p>That doesn’t sound bad at all, in fact, it sounds like Friday nights in the flat. But Kyle is pulling on the edge of his jumper like he does when he’s got the card and tells Percy to go fish anyway. Emyr narrows his eyes.</p><p>“And what else?”</p><p>“Nothing else,” Kyle says so quickly it hardly sounds like words at all.</p><p>Last week, Percy had stolen all of Liam’s underwear and hidden them. No one could get him to admit where they were until Tyler came back from class and stared him down. Emyr had started practicing that look in the mirror that very day. He puts it on and aims it at Kyle.</p><p>Kyle, much to Emyr’s pleasure and pride, cracks in under 40 seconds. “Okay so, there’s sometimes a pretty good crowd.”</p><p>“Ah,” Emyr says, cringing.</p><p>It’s been a lot to process, going from no one seeing him, to one person, to five, and then suddenly, seemingly the entire world is looking right at and not through him. Emyr’s not used to it yet, and he often feels panicked in a heavily populated area. The cafe is just about all he’s been able to handle so far, and even that leaves him feeling on edge.</p><p>“I don’t know, Kyle.” Emyr shakes his head. “That doesn’t really sound like a fun time for me.”</p><p>“I know,” Kyle says hastily. “I know that you think you won’t have fun. But we’ll all be there with you.”</p><p>“Yeah but-”</p><p>Kyle scooches away a little to look him in the eye. “And we can go any time you want. No questions asked.” Emyr must still look uncertain because Kyle smiles slyly. “It’s open mic night. Liam has a beautiful singing voice, you know.”</p><p>Emyr rolls his eyes. Hard. “You can’t use Liam to get me to do everything.”</p><p>“Probably not,” Kyle says easily, “But I’ve heard you sing, and I can’t think of a better way to win Li over than having you sing some sappy love song to him. Plus, I will remind you that you’ve already agreed to say yes.”</p><p>Emyr doesn’t want to say yes. What he wants to do is dump Kyle onto the floor and sneak away to Liam’s room, where no boys will cuddle him into tranquility and then spring awful questions on him.</p><p>But Emyr’s not a coward, at least he’s not now and he’d like to think he never was one. So instead, he nods. “Alright.”</p><p>Kyle crows, tossing a fist in the air. “Knew you’d come through, Vers!”</p><p>Emyr sighs, smiling at him reluctantly. One day he’ll figure out how to say no.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The pub isn’t so bad.</p><p>Music floats through the place, not too loud that it drowns out the conversation but enough to have Tyler tapping away on the table across the booth from him. The five of them aren’t the only ones there, even if Emyr would prefer it that way, but it’s not packed full. It’s only just gone seven; Percy says people don’t start showing up for karaoke for another hour or so. The other occupied tables, three on the opposite side and one behind, are filled with people looking for dinner and a chat, it would seem.</p><p>Emyr tries to settle back into the booth and take in the scene around him. His eyes flit over the posters on the walls and land on a dartboard by the bar. It’s black and red face is riddled with holes and, as Emyr watches, a man takes aim to add another to the bunch.</p><p>Liam’s voice snatches Emyr’s attention away. “Are you planning on holding that all night?”</p><p>Emyr smiles, an automatic response to Liam’s voice - well just Liam really - and glances down at the pint in his hands. He shrugs. “Might do.”</p><p>Liam, turned almost fully around in the booth so his entire body is facing Emyr, scrunches his nose and tilts his head. “You like beer.”</p><p>Emyr nods. “Yeah. Just feeling a little weird is all.”</p><p>Kyle and Percy, sat next to Tyler on the other side of the booth, cackle loudly together and Emyr looks at them for a second, shaking his head fondly. When he looks back, Liam is watching him with a soft look on his face.</p><p>“You’re alright though, right?” He reaches out and stills Emyr’s thigh that he’d not even realised he’d been bouncing.</p><p>Emyr shrugs, but before he can properly think about it, Tyler is pulling on his arm, trying to get his attention.</p><p>“You want chips?” Tyler half shouts. “I want chips.”</p><p>Liam shifts around in his seat so he’s facing the table a little more. “You always want chips,” he points out with a laugh.</p><p>“Is that a yes or a no, White,” Tyler snaps with no real heat. “I’ve never seen you complaining when the chips hit the table, but if you need me to help you refrain…”</p><p>Liam holds up his hands. “Alright, alright. Yes to the chips for me.”</p><p>“Me too,” Emyr chimes in, and then finally takes a sip of his beer. “No peas though, I don’t care what you say.”</p><p>As the night goes on, the chips come, pea free as requested, as do more pints, and more people. The pub fills quickly - for Emyr it’s like one second it’s pleasantly occupied and the next he looks up and it’s packed full to the brim.</p><p>He watches the large room, rakes his eyes over all the strangers with their loud voices and different smells. He tries to pay attention to the conversation at the table but his skin starts to feel too tight, like his body is itching to move. His brain spins and whirls.</p><p>It reaches nearly unbearable when a woman steps up on stage and announces she’s the first performance of the night. The crowd shouts and shuffles, people turning in their seats to watch. There’s a whistle, a garbled shout, a laughing response.</p><p>He’s meant to do that. He’s meant to stand up there and have all those eyes on him. All those people looking at him and waiting for him to do something to - to perform.</p><p>His stomach lurches and the room spins. He needs out. Out. Out. Out. He needs quiet, and calm, and just out.</p><p>Mumbling something like gotta use the loo, he shoves out of the booth, avoiding their eyes and pushes through the crowd. The front door feels a million miles away, stood at the end of a dark tunnel. He throws himself out of it and runs.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The ice rink is closed. For the first time in months, Emyr wishes he were back in the in between place. He’s never been denied access to the ice rink before, his safe place, his sanctuary.</p><p>He’s not needed it, he realises, not since Liam became that for him. But, it can’t be that way. He can’t hold on to Liam, he can’t be with Liam in this world. Liam is young and happy and normal. He can go into a pub without feeling like the walls are closing in on him. He deserves someone who can do those things with him. He deserves a person. A real person. Not a soul pretending he belongs in this time.</p><p>Emyr sits down on the ice rink steps and lets his throat burn. Let’s his chest ache. Lets the tears fall.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The sky is turning pink when Liam finds him. Emyr watches him climb the steps through swollen eyes. Mentally begging him to turn back and go home.</p><p>“Should have looked here first,” Liam says, sitting down next to him. He rests his elbows on his knees and watches the sky.</p><p>“You should go,” Emyr whispers, voice raw.</p><p>Liam doesn’t seem to hear him. “Thought maybe you’d gone home. Then I thought maybe the library. But, here makes sense.”</p><p>“Liam,” Emyr tries again, “I’m- this is a waste of time.”</p><p>Liam hears that. He turns his head slowly and stares at him. “What?”</p><p>Emyr’s whole body hurts. His head, his throat, his heart. “I’m not normal. I can’t do things like that. I can’t be a normal person, Liam. This is a waste of time. I’m a waste of time.”</p><p>Liam gets up abruptly, startling Emyr a little. He thinks he’s leaving, but Liam moves to the step just below them and squats down, hands on Emyr’s knees.</p><p>“Look at me,” Liam says, voice soft but firm.</p><p>Emyr hesitates but can’t stop himself from looking. Liam’s eyes are red-rimmed and shimmering, but no tears fall.</p><p>“I need you to hear me. I need you to listen.” Liam says, pausing to wait for Emyr to nod. “No one is normal. No one is perfect, Emyr. I am not normal. Some days I want to curl up and hide. Some days I’m full of pain and I have no idea why. I am not normal and this? What you’re feeling? It has nothing to do with being a lost soul, Emyr.”</p><p>Emyr shakes his head. “But, you go to class. You go to pubs-”</p><p>“So do you,” Liam says urgently. “You do those things. You did it tonight. You don’t think sometimes I want to run? I do. And sometimes I fight it, sometimes I channel it into drawing or painting or sculpting or carving, sometimes I let it happen. Sometimes I run away too, Em.”</p><p>They sit in silence, searching each other's faces. Emyr feels better already, maybe because of Liam’s presence. Like a weight being lifted off his chest.</p><p>“It’s okay if you run away, Emyr,” Liam whispers. He slides his hand up to tangle their fingers together. “But, I’m always going to find you.”</p><p>Emyr looks down at their hands in his lap. Tears fall again, warm against his skin. Hope blooms in his chest like when Taylor and Lisa and Faith all started to plan how the four of them were going to run away from Mother. “Promise?”</p><p>Liam tugs him up and wraps his arms around him, holding him close. He tilts his head to whisper in Emyr’s ear. “Promise.”</p><p>And when the sun rises, glinting off the library windows and warming their skin, it’s on a boy whose soul has finally found its place.</p>
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